CURSED
by windwraith
Summary: Magic is supposed to make things easier isn’t it? Not when the king is a soul-shaper with a penchant for control. Then things just get complicated. Not your typical sword & sorcery fic.
1. Prince's Precursor

Magic is supposed to make things easier isn't it? Not when the king is a soul-shaper with a penchant for control. Then things just get complicated: Heero and Trowa may be Princes, Zechs and Treize are technically slaves…still, I doubt you will find this story a typical sword & sorcery fic. It was written as an Author's exercise in AU World-building. Accolades go to Blindy who agreed to act as beta for me. If there are still punctuation errors don't blame her, as I have a bad habit of mucking about with things up to the very last.

This is a work of fan-fiction set in an alternate reality. I am only borrowing the characters, no surprise there. Expect some elements distinctly unique to this setting but rest assured I have reason for the things that may at first strike you as odd. The reasons will be revealed in the fullness of time. This tale is rated for various forms of enslavement, mostly magical. There are no blatant parings, do not expect citrus or slash. I hope you enjoy it anyway.

-Cursed-

Part One: Princes' Precursor

Two ten-year-old boys stood, shoulder to shoulder, backs to the wall of the dungeon. They had been here four days already without food or comfort. Before that they had been nobodies: a circus brat and an assassin's pet. That didn't matter now. Nothing mattered now. Their eyes were glazed and unseeing, minds blank, for the Sorcerer King had begun his workings.

His Majesty Jae Wyrdan was ruler of Yue and had been far longer than one man deserved to be alive. It was no revelation that he had gotten his throne through powerful magic and kept it by virtue of the same. The Sir-name he had taken so many ages ago was from the old tongue. Many took it to be a variant of the word 'Warden' meaning 'Protector.' Some few made the connection that 'Wyrd' referred to 'Fate'. But Jae was a Soul-shaper and the truth of the name he chose to affix to his own meant destruction--for that was where his true power lay; in the destruction of fate.

He had chosen these two youths because he suspected they possessed the strength, intelligence, and magical acumen necessary to be his heirs. As his heirs, it was only natural they also become vessels of his power. The gnome-like man moved to the shorter of the two boys first. He cupped the boy's cheek in his palm and flicked the fingers of his left hand across his field of vision.

It took concentrated effort on the boy's part to focus his dark eyes. The king's hand was almost skeletally thin with knobby arthritic joints. Power danced like eerie candle flames on the tips of his three fingered hand, as the last two digits had been sacrificed long ago—while he was still mastering his craft; only blunted stumps remained. _**"Day prince, War prince… champion of life and light. Hero who will be… in-trance, in-stance I bind thee."**_ The king's hoarse voice penetrated the youth to the very core, anchoring the magic there.

The boy stiffened, and his pupils dilated, and the colored ring around them took on the hue of deep-cobalt blue flames. His gaze followed the dancing pattern of the sorcerer's fingers, but his features were slack, expressionless, bereft of comprehension. In this state he was completely at his master's mercy. His mind was ripe and he could in no way protect himself.

Jae let the tendrils of his magic snake out from his fingertips briefly making contact with points on each temple and the center of the boy's brow. False memories were simple to conjure, and Jae sent them deep, overlaying all conscious recollection of the life he had led up to this point. The battle skills the boy had already mastered were second nature, those he would retain, but the rest was irrelevant. _**"Body, soul, magic and mind to my mage-fire I securely bind. So long as I draw breath you are steadfastly mine."**_ He completed the geis and the boy's body trembled as the magic took hold.

"**Command me,"** he rasped in a voice barely more than a whisper.

"I shall, my first, I surely shall." The sorcerer licked his dry cracked lips, eyes flashing red in the torchlight. "But you must wait till I have dealt with your brother."

The boy blinked once and then once again. "Hn," he responded finally, but said nothing more. His body was lax, like a puppet suspended by loose strings. Jae knew the boy's strength. His chorded muscles were like banded steel. His former life had forged this youth into a warrior, true, but that availed him nothing when up against a soul-shaper's power. In this condition, a gentle push would have been enough to send him toppling bonelessly to ground. Jae ran his palm across the tanned flesh of the boy's chest and shoulder, then used a thick ribbon marked with runes to encircle the first boy's bicep, binding it tightly to the second boy's arm, just above the elbow because of the disparity in height between the two.

Then the soul-shaper turned his attention to the other boy, lanky and green-eyed. "_**Night prince, Flight prince…soul with whom wisdom walks, Triton who was; essence and mind enthralled, I claim thee."**_ The flames were green this time, but this youth's reaction was the same as the first's had been, as his mind too was prepared to accept whatever he was bidden. Again the flair of false memories cascaded in his be-numbed mind. The youth gave a convulsive shudder; he was a bit more attached to his past than Heero had been. But in that wave of power, he was made to surrender it nonetheless. The words of the sealing incantation were the same for both boys. _**"Body, soul, magic, and mind to my mage-fire I securely bind. So long as I draw breath you are steadfastly mine."**_ It united the very core of who and what they were to the power that sustained him.

"**I obey,"** the tall boy answered, his eyes shining, luminous like the jade fire.

Jae was an old man, it was true. The magic fetters he placed on the young ones would only last as long as he did, and after that they were on their own. He had already outlived most of his sorcerous contemporaries; death would come for him soon enough. It was true he could draw energy from them to further extend his lifespan, a year…perhaps three, but that was not the purpose for taking them this way.

Both princes were incapable of moving more than their eyes, so he withdrew a few steps so both boys could see him. "I brought you to this place and have declared you my heirs; but you must be trained so that you will be strong enough to hold and keep the power you will inherit with my passing. This training will be harsh. After I am gone, you may hate me for what I have done if you choose. But for now, you are incapable of resisting my will."

"_**Heero,"**_ the king addressed his first prince laying his right hand on the boy's chest. The power flowed from him in a violet pulse. _**"I bind you in heart," **_he intoned. _**"Emotion diminishes and slips away, cold and unyielding as the stones of the castle. You will reside within these walls so long as I live. Drawing near the ramparts, wall, or gate will surely unhinge you. For the duration of your training you will bear this curse. My death alone will free you to truly know the people and the land that will be yours to defend."**_

"_**Trowa."**_ Jae transferred his five fingered touch to the second prince's throat. _**"I bind you in speech and council."**_ The power flared, sapphire blue, from the sorcerer's palm. _**"I send you out to walk the night. You see but remain un-seen, you hear but are un-heard. You observe but remain un-observed. Your curse demands you weigh your words with care for there are only so many allotted you. Till the day of my death your thoughts will be inviolate, held captive in the prison of your mind." **_

"_**Princes both!"**_ he addressed them, and they trembled in response to the increased volume of his voice. The ribbon that held them together began to glow softly: white symbols incandescent against black silk. _**"You will enter this state of perfect command should I will it. With the use of your true names I bind you. You will remain thus, till I return volition to you. When you wake, everything that has passed in the interim will seem hazy and indistinct as a half remembered dream." **_

A sheen of sweat glistened off the boys' bear shoulders and chest, their eyes shone with unnatural light. Jae noted the change, knowing it was a result of the magic now coursing through their veins. The sorcerer king focused his red tinged eyes to see the corona of magic swirling around his young heirs. The curse was apparent to his mage-sight: A hot flair of violet lay in Heero's chest pulsating with each beat of his heart. Likewise a lighter blue-white energy twined Trowa's neck like a serpentine collar. The be-spelled ribbon permitted Heero's midnight-blue aura to bleed through into Trowa's jade-green and vice-versa. Over the next few hours, the magical residue would fade, and then not even a skilled enchanter would be able to discern the changes he had wrought, let alone reverse them. These two were his and his alone.

"_**You will be known as the cursed princes, but none can know the cause is a geis I have laid upon you,"**_ the king commanded._** "Nothing but nature and the fullness of time can release you from my power. You will defend me from all enemies and preserve my life as if it were your own. Any duty I set for you will be accomplished to the best of your ability. Should you incur my displeasure you will willingly accept any punishment I dictate. Beyond that you will rely implicitly on one another. I bind you as two halves of the same whole with hope this close brother-bond might counterbalance the dire burden I have given you to share. When the time comes you will surely draw others to your cause."**_

"_**Enough now,"**_ Jae commanded before the color of either boy's aura was tainted overmuch by the infusion from the other. The black ribbon flared brightly and dissolved to grey ash_**. "It is past midnight. Return to your room and sleep. When you wake, everything will be as I have said. You may go."**_ He waved his three fingered hand in dismissal and the boys moved…woodenly with expressionless eyes.


	2. Shadows in the Night

Part Two–Shadows in the night

Part Two–Shadows in the night

Four years later

The sun set and the moon rose, and while the castle slept, the night prince was busy about his rounds. The capital city stretched out before him like a tapestry wrought in shades of grey. The second prince slipped from shadow to shadow. He paused by an open window, hearing a child's cry stifled by the delicates strains of a hushed lullaby.

'Why has no one ever done that for us?' the prince wondered as his keen eyes caught sight of the young mother strolling back and forth, cradling her babe in her arms. The father entered the room and helped her place the child back in its cot, then begged her to return to bed with a kiss. The simple scene filled the cursed prince with such longing it made his chest ache, but he knew it was useless to linger here.

King Jae would surely be angry if he wasted too much of the night in idle eavesdropping. He had a lot of ground to cover. The city guards made their rounds on horseback; he didn't have that luxury. Trowa slipped down an alleyway balanced on a short wall, leapt to a nearby balcony, and took to the roof tops.

The next house he visited was the polar opposite from the previous. Drunken shouts and the sound of leather contacting flesh filled the night air. In general, the night prince did not think much of his duties as the king's personal assassin, but this particular mark truly disserved his fate. Duke Deklin Barlett was a dirty old man who believed his title gave him the authority to abuse those in his employ and harass everyone he came into contact with.

Even now he had some poor girl pressed against the wall and it looked as if he was attempting to strangle her with her own braid. Trowa sneered in disgust as he slipped silently through the second story window. He really didn't want to kill the girl but leaving witnesses was always awkward. Concealed by the heavy curtains, he ran his hand against the bracer lashed to his opposite forearm. His nimble fingers retrieved two darts he held one between his first two fingers and the other between the last two.

Bartlett was groping the smaller figure pressed chest first against the wall. The sound of ripping fabric revealed a swath of creamy skin and a shoulder blade already marked with red welts. Trowa had seen enough. With a backhanded flick of his wrist he sent the slim projectiles at their respective targets. The first buried itself in the back of the man's neck, the second, pinned the auburn plat to the wall. The poison was fast acting. Deklin was already gasping, shivers wracking his body. Trowa hoped that reaction should keep the girl frozen in place. If the girl was intelligent she would be wary of poison and take care to extricate the dart from her braid and that would only be to his advantage.

Shadows clung to him as he moved through the night. They were a physical manifestation of the curse. In most cases his life was made monumentally more difficult because of the curse but, he had to admit, there were times he found the concealing shadows useful. This was one such instance. If the girl was distracted by the dart there was a good chance she would be unable to get more than a glimpse of him. The shadows worked on the principal of "Out of sight, out of mind" making her memory of him hazy and indistinct. One less death to plague his dreams, he smiled, and hastily took his leave.

With feline grace, the night prince glided across tile roofs and the occasional window ledge before finally descending to street level. He could feel the sun moving just beyond the horizon, but the first flush of dawn had yet to touch the sky. It was time he was headed back to the palace. His soft-soled boots carried him swiftly home, back to his brother.

-0-0-0-0-

As it happened, the figure Trowa left behind was not female, despite the prodigious length of braid. The young thief froze at the almost silent hiss the darts made as they split the air. He felt the impact into the thick wood paneling by his ear. Deklin grunted, his meaty hand constricting the youth's air way as he convulsed and then slackened in death. Duo's heart was hammering in his chest. He'd heard rumors of the deadly phantom that haunted the capital at night. He kept his eyes closed and his breathing even, willing the specter to pass him by. Despite what people said of the thief lord, Shinigami, he wasn't eager to meet death. Duo was more than aware that he had literally come within a hairs breath of doing just that.

It was with great care that he finally moved to work his braided tail loose from its deadly snare. His fingers grew numb simply from residual contact. Duo wanted to be away from here as quickly as possible, and while he didn't want to run into the mysterious phantom on the rooftops, he was also vividly aware of the fact that Barlett's cronies knew he was here. He would be the one they blamed when they discovered their leader's body. It didn't matter that poison wasn't his weapon of choice; he would most likely take the blame, and it seemed pointless to escape one death simply to meet another.

The young thief barely took the time the time to grab the cashbox on the bedside table before clambering out the window. The moon was bright, and he thought he saw a wisp of something grey ghosting across the rooftops, in the direction of the palace. He shivered and decided his nightly jaunt would take him in the completely opposite direction toward the outskirts of town. By the time his heart regained its normal rhythm, he had found a secluded nook in the shadows of a chimney where he could make an account of his nightly take.

The cash box was a good size. He held it carefully, rotating it so the soft moonlight played on all six facets. To his perceptive violet eyes it gave off a faint glow, indicating it was magically warded. He was a street rat, not a master mage, but he wasn't exactly without recourses. "Not a problem," he confirmed, setting the box on in the back edge with the keyhole facing upwards.

The young thief began humming softly as he concentrated on the box. He studied it carefully till he could see it even with his eyes closed. Then he imagined how it would look with the lid open. His humming intensified as he focused on the image of the open box in his mind and willed with all his might. Then, with a soft click the box opened of its own accord.

It was a useful talent for a thief. True, you had to be in close proximity to your mark but if you could imagine it, you could see it done. If one knew what a silver piece looked like and if one were reasonably sure someone had one in their purse, it was easy to imagine it in your purse instead. If you were right, it would happen...sometimes. It was hardly a reliable talent, but when it worked, well, at least he could say Shinigami earned his reputation as a lord among thieves, honestly.

The box contained five silver coins and almost three times as many copper ones, but his real interest lay in the stack of papers marked with the Barlett seal. Duo didn't read well but he knew enough to recognize they were slave contracts. With any luck, his own would be among them. He removed his tattered shirt to examine the brand on his arm: D2O-MX11. When he was quite young his friend, Solo had helped him puzzle the letters out to spell, 'Duo Maxwell.' It was just about as good a name as a slave could hope for. If he could match those marks to the papers in the box, for the first time in as long as he could remember he would be free.

But young Duo wasn't the only one to be contemplating freedom that night. In another place, not very far away, something else was afoot.

0-0-0-0-0

Nighttime: the Mansion was dark and still. He liked it best like this, when everyone was sleeping and he had full run of the place. _"Pussycat, pussycat where have you been…"_ the boy recited the nursery rhyme to himself. It was like a meditation, focusing his scattered thoughts. During the day, everything was bright and loud, servants bustling about, courtiers clambering for attention, advisors demanding precedence, guards shadowing his every move. There were so many rules he had to follow. No one seemed to realize just how draining it was for him. He was thirteen, but not a particularly big thirteen. At present, he was very tired of being a grown-up.

"_I've gone to the capital to see the King."_ He told the darkness the next lines of the rhyme. And it was true. The previous spring, his family had completed the long journey from their kingdom on the fringes of the vast Arabische dessert. It had been a long arduous journey that had lasted months and months, but once they had arrived in the capital with forty retainers and full pack train, King Wyrdan-Yue had refused to see them. Father had made it clear that they couldn't go home again, so the clan had arranged to set up house indefinitely, waiting for the king's pleasure. He hated to think of this place as home…and despised it all the more because he knew the men were discontent, and it was his fault they were here.

The boy frowned. Seeming cool and collected was part of his nature, but beneath that façade, he felt so out-of-control it wasn't even funny. That _was_ why they had come, after all. 'Why am I so unhappy?' he wondered. 'I have everything I could ever wish for. Is it wrong to want to be myself, to have the freedom to make my own choices? Am I a spoiled brat because I don't like people everywhere, watching me, questioning everything I do, every second of the day? They're always around, but I feel so terribly alone. Am I betraying mother's memory in dreaming that things might be different? Wishing _I_ might be different?'

Bare feet padded silently down the hall and into the drawing room. _"Pussycat, pussycat, what did you dare?"_ He barely breathed the words aloud as he crept quietly through the door. During the day this room was as oppressively brilliant as the rest of the place. White walls resplendent with gold-leaf, antique swooning couches and glass topped tables; clearly the furnishings were more for fashion than function. He could not help but appreciate how the moon-glow and shadow seemed to soften the ambiance, but he still wasn't truly happy here. _"I frightened a little mouse under a chair," _he quietly chanted to himself.

"I am not the timid little mousey many take me for." He frowned, slipping behind the rich velvet curtains and pressing his cheek against the leaded glass window in longing for the moon-lit world beyond. Bright blue eyes widened in surprise as the barrier shifted slightly, and before he could catch his breath, he had stepped over the sill and onto the balcony. The cool night air was intoxicating. He breathed it in till he thought his lungs would burst. Sparkles danced across his field of vision, making him feel lightheaded and giddy. Finally, he exhaled, mentally chastising himself for being silly, and began breathing in a more normal rhythm.

"I am outside._"_ He grinned in sudden realization. I'm outside and no one knows it!_"_ he leaned far over the marble balustrade and gazed down onto the carefully manicured lawn below. _"_I am outside and no one is here to make me go back inside_!" _His mouth gaped in wonder at the sudden realization, and quick as a flash he eased himself over the side and dropped lightly to the ground.

The dark earth was cool and moist beneath his bare feet. The lush grass tickled his ankles and he shivered with excitement before darting across the courtyard, wiggling beneath a row of decorative shrubs, scrambling over a low stone wall, and escaping into the night.

0-0-0-0-0

Elsewhere in the Mansion, a shadowed figure was lost in concentration. She carefully measured a deep red powder into a glass goblet, just as she did every night. She poured water over it and mixed it with a glass rod. She watched the powder dissolve and sloshed the mixture gently in the glass to ensure there was no residue at the bottom. Then she set the goblet on a tray. She moved with practiced ease, careful not to disturb anyone as she made her way through the halls. When she had reached her objective, the door opened soundlessly. She set the tray on the bed-table and gently pulled aside the heavy curtain surrounding the canopied bed to observe her sleeping charge and found…nothing.

Her mouth opened and closed soundlessly as she sought to comprehend the ramifications of the mussed coverlets, vacant of their usual occupant.

"He's gone…he's gone…he's gone!" The realization rocked her. Then she panicked. Stepping back from the bed, she stumbled, upsetting the tray. Glass shattered, metal rang against the cold marble tiles, and she let out a bloodcurdling scream.

The sound of hurried footsteps rang in the hall. The door banged open as four burly men stormed inside. She ran to the nearest one and buried her face into his chest, his velvet robe soaking up her silent tears "He's gone…gone… he's gone," she whispered till the words no longer had any meaning. She barely felt the awkward arm draped around her shaking shoulders.

Seconds later, the door opened again and the arms that had been attempting to provide mute comfort stiffened, becoming suddenly restrictive…dangerously so. "The heir is missing," one of the guards announced.

"How is that possible?" the newcomer growled angrily. His voice became demanding. "Irina?!" he snapped, and the woman's quiet sobs turned to open wailing. The strong arms released her, and in a barely controlled manor, she slumped to the ground, kneeling among the shards of broken glass, the robe pooling around her knees and soaking up what was left of the medicine she prepared so carefully—medicine that should have reinforced the dose she'd given him at bed-time, assuring her precious little brother stayed asleep—and safely out of trouble.

"Get her out of my sight," the angry voice commanded. "Then **find** him!"

"Yes, Master Winner," one of the guards replied curtly. Hands like iron closed on her shoulders, half-dragging her to her feet and practically propelling her toward the door. She missed the warm comfort of the chest and the arms that had sheltered her, albeit briefly and realized she didn't even know his name.


	3. Cat's Secret Life

Part Three--Cats Secret Life-

"I'm a cat." The boy thought hugging himself as he made his way down a tree-lined boulevard. "I'm a wild little cat…a little wildcat." He danced in the moonlight, skipping gleefully from shadow to shadow. "I'm not a mouse. I am not a boy, or a prince. I'm certainly not the heir to the Winner fortune! I…AM just a cat." The blonde giggled, trying to act as feline as possible. He scampered and jumped in puddles. He got on his knees and peered under hedgerows. In short, he went wherever his curiosity led him, happily leaving the sheltered estate far behind.

The dirt road he had been following gave way to flagstones. The houses became smaller, not to mention more frequent. He could almost imagine they were like soldiers standing together, almost shoulder-to-shoulder as if they might defy the mansion's existence. And for him, it did not exist – not now, not tonight. "What would a cat care about mansions anyway? _They don't let me, still I know, Cats are free to come and go_!" he announced gleefully, running as fast as he could barefoot across uneven ground.

He saw a gnarled old tree growing in the wayside, but this was not the carefully clipped decorative sort he'd seen earlier; this one had character. On impulse, he jumped up, lacing his fingers around one of the lower branches. He kicked out his feet and swung back and forth till he figured out how to get his leg over another branch so he could sit on it. Soon he was climbing further up into the leaves. He was grinning so widely it made his face hurt.

When he decided to get down, the ground seemed substantially farther away then he remembered. 'Cats DO get stuck in trees,' he recalled belatedly, but he wasn't about to stay where he was and risk discovery when the sun rose. He wanted to delay getting hauled back to his gilded cage as long as possible.

'A stupid tree won't curtail my fun!' he grimaced working himself farther along the branch. It should bring him near the porch of a rather shabby two-story-house. The limb shook with his weight. There was no guarantee it would hold him. His breath came rough in his chest and could feel the blood pumping in his ears. He was terrified…it was exhilarating! With one tremendous leap he surged off the branch, experiencing freefall for several endless heartbeats before his body impacted roughly. He rolled and several pieces of slate cracked under his weight; not exactly four footed grace.' He reflected. It took some purposeful flailing of arms and legs to get the rest of him more fully situated on the roof.

'It would have been easier if I had a tail to help me balance,' He thought as he lay gasping for several more seconds till a quiet voice from the shadows startled him. "You DO know that was probably more dangerous than hanging from the lowest branch and letting go, don't you?"

The renegade prince scrambled to his knees, his bright eyes searching for the origin of the voice. "Who's there?" he hissed in the form of a quiet challenge.

A lithe figure with a long chestnut braid detached itself from the shadows beneath the eves of the house. Walking across the roof with confidence, he held out a hand to help the other boy to his feet. "Name's Duo," he offered.

"I'm a cat," the blonde announced grinning broadly. The pride in his voice belied the fact that his knees were still shaking and his heart was still hammering against his ribs as if it were trying to burst from his chest.

Duo studied him intently, strange violet eyes taking in muddy feet and grass-stained clothing. Though dirtied and torn in several places, the material was the finest the urchin had ever seen. It was pale colored with strands that shimmered like gold woven in. The matching shirt and drawstring trousers were made for sleeping, not exploring the world, and so they could not be expected to hold up well under the circumstances, but the urchin couldn't have known that. Duo only owned a single suit of clothing, aside from that currently on his back, and didn't really consider it might be different for others. He did take note of the ornate monogram the other boy's breast pocket. Duo bit his lip and cocked his head to puzzle out the letters.

"Sooo," he drew out the word in a long breath and poked at the letters absently. "A 'Q' and an 'R' with double-V spells cat?"

"Yes," the blonde told him with a slyly-innocent smile.

"Thought so," Duo admitted. The genuine tone in his voice made the other boy feel a bit guilty for lying, but Cat quickly thrust the emotion aside.

"So how did you get up here?" Cat asked.

"Down actually, sometimes it is best to go up to get down. I came from there." The braided boy pointed to the roof of the house. "I'll show you."

He led the confused blonde into the shadows where a conveniently mounted rain gutter made an impromptu ladder to the roof. Duo gave him a careful boost and kept a hand on the small of the other boy's back as they climbed the rest of the way together.

"Stars are really bright, aren't they!" Cat exclaimed once they reached the flat rooftop. He tipped his head as far back as it would go and swayed dizzily. He was suddenly so tired. He wanted to lie down on the roof and drink in the inky blackness…he knew that all too soon, he would wake sequestered in his own feather bed with little memory of how he got there. The knowledge made his heart want to weep, but for now he at least had the illusion of freedom.

Duo saw the smaller boy sway and grabbed his arm, holding him up-right. "We can't stay here," he said. Cat pouted cutely at the elder boy, but the young urchin was unaffected by the performance. He was worried though. He did not like the glazed look in those sea-blue eyes. It didn't seem quite...normal. "I'll take you somewhere safe," Duo promised.

"M'kay." Cat threw his arms around the other boy, hugging him impulsively. Duo wound one arm around the blonde boy's back and guided him across the roof and onto the next. You could actually travel quite a long distance skirting rooftops this way. Duo knew them all – it was a good way to avoid the patrols at night...provided the phantom didn't get you.

That run-in with phantom still had him shaken and he wasn't all that keen on a repeat of the occurrence, especially with a dazed boy in tow. It was best he go to ground and wait till dawn to decide what to do about his new friend.

-0-0-0-0-0-

The two burly guards, Abdul and Ahmad, searched the mansion, basement to attic, and there was absolutely no sign of the missing Winner Heir. Those who had been on guard duty insisted no one had entered or left either the house or the surrounding compound. They had checked the gardens and the stables to no avail. The boy should not have been able to get very far in his present condition. But where he _had_ gotten to was surely a mystery. The master would be angry if the sun rose before the boy was found.

"Have I mentioned how much I hate this?" Abdul, the taller of the two guards, muttered.

"Only about six times since you had to lock mistress Iria in her quarters," his burly companion reflected twisting the corner of his bushy mustache into a point "Remember, it is _her_ fault we've got to go clambering about in the dark. If she had done her duty, the young master would be safe in his bed…and so would we."

"But why must they drug Master Quatre night after night?" Abdul frowned balling his hands into fists.

His companion frowned into his mustache. "As if this isn't example enough of the kinds of trouble he gets into when they don't do it properly. Think man. I'm sure you've heard Yuda tell what happened last time the young master managed to get loose when he was in the throws of his nightmares. Why do you think Master Winner insisted we leave the solace of our desert to come to this godforsaken place and get help for the boy?"

Ahmad sighed sadly and continued, "The young master is the kindest, most likable child in all the realm…but leaving him unsupervised is decidedly ill-advised. You don't understand the level of destruction he is capable of. Don't be fooled by his angelic face…he _is_ dangerous. It's not a proper curse like the one that binds the Princes of Yuy but our Quatre is dangerous all the same. Yuda was there when he almost killed Master. If he would turn on his own father, just think what he might do to the rest of us. Believe me, if you like the gentle little boy with the sunny disposition we see during the day, you'll not question what they do to keep him and everyone around him safe during the long nights."

The tall guard sighed. Clearly his companion considered the matter closed. If he pressed the issue, the other man would surely have words with Master Winner. Then he would find himself looking for a new job – and there certainly wasn't much chance he would get to catch so much as a glimpse of Mistress Iria if he was on the bread line.

But Abdul and Ahmad were not the only guards seeking the missing Winner heir. Alex and Mueller were on the trail as well. This wasn't the first time Yuda had paid their mercenary band to hunt this particularly elusive quarry. They would find him. And this time, they weren't going to be gentle about taking him down.


	4. Herald the Day

Part four—Herald the Day

Part four—Herald the Day

Back in the main palace, Trowa tumbled into bed next to the still-sleeping Day-Prince and pulled the silken coverlet tight about them both. There was so little time for them to spend together. His limbs felt leaden, but he knew he wouldn't be able to get any proper sleep till well after noon. The two brothers had shared a bed as long as they could remember. It had, at first, been a defense against nightmares. Now, they had such different schedules the night prince valued any time he could spend with his brother. Trowa sighed. Heero shifted, feeling the disturbance in the bed beside him.

"You alright?" the sleepy prince mumbled.

"Yes, I—" Trowa began, but the sentence was twisted off in a strangled gasp. Pain, white hot blossomed behind his luminous green eyes and his chest burned as he tried to catch his breath.

Feeling his brother flail about on the bed and knowing what had happened, Heero leaned up on his elbow and forced the other boy to meet his gaze. "Don't waste your words, brother mine. You know it triggers the curse. Forget about speaking just breathe--In and out--slow." He directed in a characteristically cool and dispassionate voice. Heero was a rock, steadfast…untouched by emotions tide but strong just the same.

Trowa focused on following his brother's direction to the exclusion of all else and once the panic diminished his breathing did come easier. He sat up unsteadily; still holding onto Heero's hand as if it were a lifeline. Then he rubbed his chest, willing the pain to abate. It did, slowly. He bit his lower lip and tried to persuade himself he was too old to cry. Unbidden, the sound came out, an animalistic whimper that rose to something like a woeful keening. Those sorts of sounds didn't hurt the way words did but they were hardly fitting for a prince.

"Enough of that," Heero murmured tonelessly. The Day-Prince was incapable of actually experiencing fear or distress. Compassion and empathy were concepts he had learned to emulate mostly from books. He had convinced himself that regardless of the emptiness in his chest, he cared for his brother more than any other, and it was his duty to give what little comfort he could. His coolly calculating mind argued it was woefully insufficient, but he persisted nonetheless. "Play for me," he said finally.

Trowa's shudders eased as he got control of himself enough to nod. Heero couldn't leave the Palace. To attempt it would call down the curse with even greater intensity than Trowa experienced, stripping him of reason and control, leaving the stalwart prince-ling little more than a beast. Sure, he wondered about the world beyond the walls of his prison, sending his brother out into the night almost as often as the king did. Trowa was free to come and go as he pleased, but in all his years in the palace the cursed brothers had discovered only one way for the silent youth to express what he had seen beyond the walls.

Trowa carefully removed the silver flute from its case and poured every bit of his experience into the music…hoping that perhaps, for once…his brother might just be able to feel it.

Heero tried, closing his eyes to concentrate on the liquid cascade of notes crafted with a master's care, resplendent with trills and flourishes. Melancholy? Heero guessed the music built slowly increasing in tempo and pitch…the word hopeful came to mind...but that wasn't exactly a concept he was particularly familiar with. The emptiness in his breast felt…poignant, but that was really all he could say about it.

Heero wanted to be angry that the curse kept his brother from communicating what was in his heart, and kept him from experiencing such things for himself. Heero was well aware his brother longed to be free of the curse and grieved for him as well, trapped within these walls. But Heero could not imagine what it would be like to feel such things himself. It was as if his soul were colorblind; he didn't even dream in color. It was impossible—just as it always had been. He'd come close to understanding once, though.

Several years ago, delegates from a distant kingdom presented him with a pegasi colt and a gryphon cub for his birthday. He and Trowa had spent almost an entire spring and summer training them. Wing proved to be a fine specimen of equine grace, responsive to his every command…and Trowa and Nanashi were practically inseparable.

The trouble started when they grew large enough to fly. Under different circumstances, either would have made perfect riding-beasts for any prince. But they belonged to him. Some of the guards decided they should have their wings clipped. The rationale was that since the first prince was confined within the walls of the castle, his pets should be as well. Heero had overheard the plan and had not let the men's proximity to the main gate stop him from acting to prevent it.

The curse fell on him hard and the guards did not survive encounter. His actions seemed to indicate Heero felt_ something_ for the nearly sentient beasts, but he couldn't say exactly what. That night, he had sent Trowa out on his behalf to set them free. Parting from the no-name gryphon had hurt his brother, but he'd done it anyway, without hesitation which baffled Heero all the more.

Trowa's music changed. Quick notes in succession usually meant action of some sort, a fight perhaps. His brother didn't seem injured, so it was unlikely one of the street gangs had tried to jump him again. One would think they would learn their lesson, but the night prince's curse worked in unpredictable ways sometimes. Shadows clung to him, often concealing his presence from those who didn't know him and once he was gone, the memory faded from people's minds. Even so, what the prince did during his nightly forays wasn't as easily dismissed. Even trapped in the palace, Heero heard rumors about a dangerous 'phantom' stalking the night.

"Sounds like you've been busy." Heero reflected aloud. "I hope Jae didn't have you doing anything too dangerous."

Trowa gave a trill denoting a negative. No, it hadn't been too difficult, but the notes ended in a dissonant twist.

"Distasteful," Heero nodded in understanding. They did come close to communicating in this way but he could see the signs of a headache creasing his brother's brow. "Let it go Trowa. Play me the dawn."

Green eyes shifted to the window. Heero was correct; the sky was turning pink. A new day was beginning and the curse could not prevent him from heralding with everything he had. The night prince bowed his head and promptly lost himself to the music.

When he finally ran out of breath he nestled back into the coverlets to doze for an hour or so before they were summoned for breakfast. It wouldn't do to keep King Jae waiting. The king was not noted for being a patient man, especially not when it came to educating his heirs. Trowa stretched cat like and got out of bed. He smiled slightly and tugged his brother after him.

Heero growled but within moments both boys readied themselves for the day. The first Prince dressed in a deep blue tunic trimmed in silver. His leggings were grey, his boots black. The dagger that hung from his black leather belt was more utilitarian than one would expect from a prince, silver with a sapphire at the crosspiece, it was the only weapon he had in open sight, supposedly a last resort in those few instances when magic failed.

As night prince, Trowa dressed head-to-toe in black with the tiniest accents gold. Somber perhaps, but it suited him. His cape was flung over one shoulder and fastened under the opposite arm with a silken chord. The heavy leather bracers he always wore concealed an array of stiletto flechettes and poisoned darts, close at hand in case the king should need to call upon his assassin's services.

The two princes slipped from the tower room down the narrow winding stair to the hall. Servants made slight obeisance as they passed. Heero took no notice and Trowa was incapable of returning the greeting with more than a raised hand, so he was content to match his brother's purposeful stride.

"First Prince," The Chamberlain greeted Heero, guiding him to his place at the high table beside the king. Heero's attitude made people treat him with formality; Trowa's often evoked the reverse. The man made eye-contact with the second prince only briefly before his gaze drifted away.

Despite his curse, there were some in the palace who had learned to _see_ the second prince. Unfortunately, all but a few servants assumed that because he couldn't speak, he couldn't think. They couldn't be more wrong…but Trowa knew he should be accustomed to such things by now. He ignored the slight and casually took his seat beside his brother.

King Jae sat at the head of the high table, his plate piled high with sausage and eggs, fried tomatoes, bread with honey and candied fruit. The princes ate more Spartan fair, thin gruel and bitter tea. Jae insisted they maintain the restricted diet while in training. Both were so accustomed to it by now they were not even tempted by the myriad other dishes set within easy reach.

Heero never had much appetite but he dawdled over his breakfast so his brother wouldn't feel rushed. When Trowa pushed away his mostly empty plate the first prince mirrored the gesture and minutes later they were padding down the lush carpeted halls to the more private areas of the palace.


	5. The King's Jewels

After reviewing section seven sub-paragraph C of the "Best Friend Charter" I have compelled Ami-Jay to act as temporary Beta for this section. I hope you enjoy it--Sorry for the delay.

Part Five--The Kings Jewels

The king's treasury was dimly lit and crowded. The shelves on the walls were teeming with chalices, Jewelry, statuettes, keepsakes, ornamental arms, armor and coins from many realms. What the shelves could not contain had been relegated to baskets on the floor or boxes stacked haphazardly atop one another. Once past the glitter of royal refuse was an alcove bare of all save the king's jewels. These were not the usual tawdry trinkets, for the king had cut gems by the score.

His Jewels were far more rare, there was some debate whether they were statues imbued by magic, or princes enslaved in stone. One sat on a pedestal, foot resting on the opposite knee, arms crossed upon his bear chest, head bowed. The other sat cross-legged on the floor by the first's booted foot, elbows resting on knees, chin supported by entwined fists, eyes closed, brow lightly furrowed as if in thought.

Each statue's neck was encircled by a metal collar and a large gem was set in the exquisitely molded chest, where the heart ought to be. They were quite life-like, uncannily so. All that was required was the command to animate them. Heero rubbed his hands together to warm them then cupped them together breathing into the hollow. He summoned his magic and stretched out to touch the first statue. He ran fingers from the statue's breast to collar bone before finally blanketing the crystal with his palm.

The dark gem brightened and he could feel its first few tentative beats. Slowly the gem's color changed from cold blue to ruby red. The heartbeat grew stronger; the rose colored marble warmed and flushed melting into supple flesh. Dormant lungs filled with air and the chest heaved beneath his hand. Heero placed his other hand atop the bowed head, ginger hair gained definition and a few stray strands fell forward to partly conceal one delicately forked eyebrow.

"Wake now." Heero commanded his voice remained cold as the statue had been.

Blue eyes flicked open, unseeing at first but soon intelligence and cool clarity woke in the Jewel's eyes. The prince noted the change and stepped backward from the alcove to permit the newly revived statue to stand and stretch, banishing the last vestiges of his stony sleep with a deep cleansing sigh.

"Good morning my prince," The king's Jewel sketched a bow but did not bother to conceal the wistful lilt in his cultured voice knowing Heero wouldn't take note of it and couldn't understand its meaning even if he did. He had been a prince also, at one time. Then his kingdom had fallen. Now he was one of Jae's Jewels; one part slave, one part status symbol. The King of Yue had lessoned his pets well and bound their magic so they could not be a threat to the stability of the kingdom. But, that didn't mean they weren't still a force to be reckoned with.

"Trace." Heero acknowledged trying to sound civil as he greeted the ginger haired eighteen-year-old. He failed, as usual. The young man had tried to drill him on the pleasantries but such things always sounded empty, even to his own ears.

The former statue shook his head, his mouth firmed into a slight frown. "Poor boy," Trace crooned softly, stepping forward to run his fingers through the prince's mussed hair. Heero winced. There were few indeed that would dare be so free with the first prince, and none as audacious as the ginger haired Jewel. "Your magic warms flesh of stone and causes a crystal heart to beat but nothing can thaw the ice that runs in your veins. I feel for you first prince, and I would do so even if I were not your slave." There was tenderness and genuine affection in his voice as he whispered the words, but that didn't mean the cursed prince took it well.

"Don't bother on my account," Heero growled. "You are the king's Jewel. It is HIS will you tutor me, not my own. I know my curse. There is no help for it." He could not truly experience feelings but he had learned enough from the elder man to know he did not want pity, especially from Trace. He turned away to allow the other some measure of privacy to slip on a clean shirt and well fitted blue doublet.

Trowa slipped silently from the shadows into the alcove, knelt before the second Jewel, and repeated the process imbuing magic into the crystal heart, warming stony flesh by will alone. He had already evoked the curse once this morn and was reluctant to do so again. Being unable to speak meant the second prince couldn't call the Jewel to full consciousness. But he took care to revive the other young man as much as he could.

Trowa's delicate touch beneath the finely chiseled chin brought up the other's face. Sculptured mouth opened to take its first breath. The night prince ran his long fingers through the matchless length of corn-silk hair, easing out the tangles and arranged it around the squared shoulders and muscular chest like a golden mantle. When he was satisfied the other was ready he stepped back signaling his brother to command the second Jewel. "Wake now."

Ice blue eyes snapped open and the tall weapons master unfolded himself, stretching languidly, then, he held the back of one hand to his mouth in a prodigious yawn.

Heero deeply suspected that it was mere affectation on the blonde's part but if it made the Jewel feel more…natural, who was he to object. Like Trace this youth was another of the King's Jewels, at sixteen, this one time prince was too valuable to kill and too dangerous to leave free… Jae bragged it had taken him months to tame the youth and more to train him. The fiery Trace had been a docile pet by comparison. The process left the second Jewel decidedly different than he had been. Now, He followed orders without question, but still he remained unbroken.

"Zechs." The first prince greeted.

"Morning boys." The lanky blonde gave them a sleepy smile. One hand ghosted across the pulsing crystal embedded in his chest almost as if he needed to remind himself of its presence before retrieving his blouse and jacket from where he had left them the night before.

Zechs studiously avoided making eye contact with Trace or acknowledging him in any way, and the other Jewel did likewise. King Jae did not like them associating with one another and this place was saturated with the old sorcerer's magic. There was no telling what he may or may not observe. Both Jewels were always eager to be free of their prison in the treasury but Zechs tried to sound relaxed as he announced, "Well, I can't speak for the rest of you, but Trowa and I have a long morning ahead of us, so we can't spend all day here."

"Hn," Heero agreed and the four made their way to the main wing of the palace.

oo-o-o-O-o-o-oo

Trowa and Zechs escorted their counterparts to the study; waiting only a minute or so before continuing on to the practice grounds. The room seemed comfortable, with its heavy rosewood furnishings covered in red velvet. It was not at all musty or dry. Huge leaded glass windows let in plenty of light and the walls not covered by bookshelves were decorated with exquisite tapestries of hunting scenes and ancient kings.

Zechs knew his charge longed to stay at his brother's side learning the history and laws of the kingdom…practicing the forms of kingship but it was not to be. Beyond looking at the carefully illuminated manuscripts and appreciating their beauty the curse made all text gibberish to his inquisitive emerald eyes.

Heero was just as discontented with the situation. He appreciated blade work more than most things and would try everything in his power to avoid his lessons and go to the practice grounds to spar. But, if Zechs was honest with himself, he had to admit there wasn't much more he could teach Heero. Only his height and longer reach gave him any advantage over the younger boy in their duels. Trowa on the other hand still had much to learn. He squeezed the silent prince's arm encouraging him to leave his brother to the care of his instructor.

"Be safe." Trace whispered the words, which could have easily been directed to either of the departing pair but neither responded.


	6. Learning Lessons

Part Six--Learning Lessons

Part Six--Learning Lessons

Hours later Trowa knew he was well and truly outclassed. Given a choice he would prefer ranged weapons, throwing knives or even a crossbow, Augmented by magic he never missed. But today, he was required to use the long sword. He could use magic to lighten the large blade but he had been practicing for two turns of the hour glass. His arms felt heavy and his slim shoulders ached. Finally, the taller blond called a halt to their battle play. Given time he would master this weapon form as he had the others.

"Good boy Trowa," Zechs congratulated and the prince gave him a slight smile. Unlike the servant at breakfast, the tutor's more casual attitude was not meant as a slight. Any who could look past the restrictions of the curse found the green eyed boy likable and regarded him as a friend…While Heero was ever the loner. People respected the first prince of course, but many more feared him. There was more to both than met the eye. "Are you ready for the next subject?" Zechs asked his voice soft as velvet.

The green eyed prince bowed to his tutor and extended one hand to the twin swords. Shadows gathered entwining around the blades as he stretched out with magical energy lifting them slowly, by his will alone. Up they floated as he closed his eyes following them with his mind through the window to the armory. His teeth were set on edge in concentration but with a last bit of effort the swords came to rest in their stands against the wall.

Zechs' congratulatory smile was a sad one. The blonde's hand unconsciously drifted to the metal band about his neck. It was a symbol of his servitude to Jae, true enough, but the Jewels' collars served more purpose than most in the palace believed. The cold iron was imbued with strong enchantments and served to restrict their power, but only to a degree. With out the collar he could have done as Trowa had…with more power and greater finesse but he required what reserves he had to aid in the prince's training and could not afford to show off.

The weapons master stood with his arms crossed, his hands closed in fists he closed his eyes and concentrated to summon the magic past the collar around his neck. It gathered around his body like a cloak. The magic caught in his waist length hair shimmering behind him as if caressed by unseen hands. The one-time prince took a deep breath and when he let it out he felt the weight of the world slip from his shoulders as the magic buoyed him up.

In his minds eye he could see himself hovering two feet off the ground rotating slowly. He uncrossed his arms and let them rest, falling naturally a few inches from his sides. Slowly he sank ground-ward once again but did not release his tentative hold on the magic. It felt good knowing it would be there of he needed it. "All right, Trowa, your turn, I can catch you if you need me to." the young man encouraged his charge.

Trowa took a deep steadying breath. Truthfully, he was more comfortable moving objects than moving himself. However, from a magical standpoint, the second should be easier than the first…but there was some measure of self doubt to overcome. Still, just as when going swimming, it is sometimes best just to jump in with both feet and get it over with.

The green-eyed prince ran a few meters across the lawn calling up the power as he did so. Then he used the gathered momentum to spring into the air. He crossed his arms over his chest as Zechs had done but hunched his head after launching himself from the ground. His feet swung up as his head dipped down causing him to flip in mid-air. When he was completely inverted he realized what he had done and extended his arms out wide to slow his forward movement and bring him right-side up again. "Keep your feet together" Zechs counseled throwing enough energy at the boy to help keep him aloft and rotate him so he was facing the direction from which he had come.

"Very pretty," The blonde acknowledged now that the second prince was hovering as he had done earlier. Trowa adjusted the magic fields carefully so he began drifting subtly to catch hold of the balcony outside the window where his brother was studying. "Now, now… don't disturb them." Zechs frowned tightening a chord of power around the Second Prince's ankle. "I'll pry you away from that window if I have to. I want to see you make a controlled decent. It is one thing to be able to jump up to a roof top and quite another to break an ankle trying to land."

The young prince let out a grumpy snort and let go of the balustrade. He slipped down a few feet nearly making the blonde's heart stop. Then he dropped his hands to his sides and carefully willed himself to the ground. As much as Trowa worried about falling, he loved the sensation of flight. Truthfully He would have liked to try the flip maneuver again…preferably while Heero and Trace were watching, or even Jae. The king always watched with a critical eye but it really didn't matter over much to Trowa, He loved performing for an audience Zechs was obligated to watch him so he didn't really count.

The weapons master could swordfight tirelessly for hours at a time. He was in peek physical condition. But expending magical energies tired him like nothing else. The young prince could see he was already breathing hard from the exertion. He knew how difficult it was for the young man to be restrained and wondered what he would be capable of if it not for the collar.

Zechs' thoughts reflected his own. To the best of his knowledge He hadn't come into his full strength till after his kingdom fell, granted his memories from that time were…hazy at best. Most of what he knew about his gifts and himself, he learned while in servitude to King Jae. Sometimes the collar made him feel so…feeble. He sighed.

Trowa was not single-minded like his brother. He could not ignore the sadness he saw darken the Jewel's deep blue eyes. He touched his tutor's arm in concern and gently bled a thin tendril of magic into him lending him strength before the collar could leach that away too.

"I'm sorry Trowa…Don't waste your energy in me, I am well enough, really." Zechs told him but his voice still sounded a bit hollow. His student frowned and poked at the blonde's chest with a finger. "All right" Zechs conceded finally, "I know you want to watch the first prince practice his elements. I suppose we're done for now."

Trowa nodded in quiet agreement and tugged the other boy's dusky red tunic jacket to indicate that he wanted Zechs to come too. "Are you sure?" the blonde asked uncertainly. Jae generally kept his Jewels apart when they weren't in the treasury and isolated them from much of the rest of the staff as well, but the princes did not share his possessiveness. What is more, Trowa had noticed that his trainer's gaze drifted to the study window nearly as often as his did and wanted to ease the loneliness he saw in those blue eyes. He nodded sharply and gave the young man's arm a gentle squeeze.

Zech was quite obedient to his young masters' silent guidance and didn't need to be 'told' twice. "Thank you," he whispered softly.

0-0-0-0-0

Heero spent most of the morning reciting battle statistics and the historical details of the battle between Ares god of War and King Leo hereditary leader of the Fifth territory of Wēdan-Yue. Except for the actual strategies employed, Heero found History more than a bit dull. He was incapable of identifying with people he saw every day…he could not hope to do so with people that had died before he was born and he wasn't afraid to say so…repeatedly. Both the first prince and his instructor were near their wits end when the time came to move on to the "practicum arcanæ."

The practice of magic was conducted in a small room off the side of the study. It was bare to the stone walls that had once been part of the castle keep that predated the current palace. The only furnishings were rough wood benches against the wall and a low stone table that held various necessary ingredients for today's lesson. Trowa and Zechs were careful not to disturb the other two as they entered the room and took a seat on the bench closest to the door.

Heero sat cross-legged on the floor in the center of the room, Trace stood with hands folded behind his back. "Today you will focus on Practical elemental transmutation." the ginger haired intellectual explained, for the newcomers as much as for his charge.

Trace took a handful of solid silver balls from a dish and set them in Heero's out-stretched hand. The first prince was becoming proficient in manipulating all the elements but he recently discovered he had a true affinity for metals.

Heero's cobalt blue eyes squinted and his brow furrowed only slightly as he willed the metal to melt and pool in his palm as if it were quick silver. Then he sprang to his feet and with a horizontal flick of his wrist he loosed the metal allowing it to slide between his thumb and forefinger. The metal thinned out and lengthened forming a jagged blade about a foot long.

Zechs grinned, he knew a challenge when he saw one and was about to draw his belt dagger to test the other youths blade when Trowa placed one hand on his fore arm. Making brief eye contact with the warrior Jewel he shook his head slightly.

The elder blonde sighed and settled back down again. Heero glared and melted the blade letting it coil snake like around his wrist and fore arm before congealing to form a rough bracelet.

Trace nodded in satisfaction before joining his pupil in sitting cross legged on the ground. He had let the boy show off his new skill in front of his brother, now it was time for him to work on his less exemplary skills. The Jewel set an earthenware pot full of soil between them.

"All right my prince, reach out with your power and delve into the soil. Find one of the seeds and make it grow. I'll show you first" The ginger haired mage directed. Taking a deep breath he focused past the dampening collar around his neck. Closing his eyes he found a tiny flicker of life essence and subtly encouraged it. He felt the first white tendrils of roots push through the seed casing reaching outward and upward seeking the light.

Trace strengthened it with a bit of his own life essence. He gathered water from the air to nourish it and soon the first leaves began to sprout. A thought flickered dully in the back of his mind that Heero wasn't the only one that could show off a bit for an appreciative audience. He stretched out one hand and formed a small ball of mage fire to warm the young plant as the sun would. More water and soon a miniature rosebud burst into bloom, blood red, filling the room with its scent. His reserves of magic were near spent, but he was happy. Trace smiled, plucking the flower from the loose soil and tucked it into the slit in the lapel of his jacket.

"All right Heero your turn." The elder Jewel encouraged, "Subtle control."

The first prince frowned and tried to glare the damp earth to life. Within a matter of heartbeats the pot, soil all spontaneously combusted in a vaguely rose shaped ball of fire.

"Impressive my prince…but not exactly what we were going for." Trace chided.

"I'm done!" Heero growled keenly aware of Trowa's silent snickers. "That is enough for today." He got to his feet and swept out of the room.

"I'll help you clean up." Zechs offered. Trace winced as the other Jewel addressed him. Both young men froze for a few heart beats waiting to see if punishment materialized out of thin air. When it did not Zechs reiterated his request directed this time to Trowa, "B-by your leave of course my prince."

The silent prince tried to give both Jewels an encouraging smile. He hated seeing them cowed by Jae's power. Once Heero was king things would change. Surely, even emotionless, his brother would ease the restrictions placed on them, wouldn't he?


	7. Dragon Lord Lost

Part Seven - Dragon Lord Lost

Heero had few emotions; unfortunately, frustration and anger were two of them. Because he so seldom felt anything at all when he did, he generally took it badly-he often struck out at others while fighting to regain control of himself. That was the reason for his hasty departure from the training room. He wanted to put as much distance between himself and the memory of whatever made him 'get like this.' The situation was made all the more complicated by the fact that his curse prevented him from leaving the castle grounds.

The First Prince stalked the halls, glaring at any who dared cross his path. The castle staff floundered to avoid him, the courtiers fled, and any other hapless souls backed up against the wall in hopes of escaping the brooding prince's notice. Which was why, the cobalt-eyed youth was taken quite by surprise when he collided, rather forcefully, with someone coming in the opposite direction.

Both parties fell backwards. The newcomer squawked in a rather undignified manner, dropping several large tomes, one of which landed heavily on the prince's foot. Heero grunted and glared. The obsidian-eyed annoyance made matters unaccountably worse when he declared "Just who do you think you are tearing around a corner like that!"

"What did you say?" Heero's toneless voice belied his annoyance. That was another emotion that somehow circumvented the restrictions the curse placed upon him.

"What are you, deaf?" the other youth asked bellicosely. "You ran into me, and you had best apologize before I give you a reason to rush about, by setting your tail ablaze."

Heero blinked at the other boy in incomprehension. No one had _ever_ spoken to him like that. He wasn't sure what to do about it. His mouth firmed resolutely and his logical mind attempted to grapple with the situation.

"You must be an addle-brained baka," the stranger scoffed. "Perhaps I'll let you go with a warning this time, but don't cross me again."

"I don't believe you have any business here stranger." The prince glowered, and all thoughts of Trace's lectures on proper princely deportment and inter-personal relationships fled from his thoughts. Zech's lessons came to the fore. Heero cracked his knuckles and twisted his lips into a smile that did not reach his eyes. "Lets' play," he urged in a voice that made the most hardened castle guard's blood run cold. Heero grabbed a chalice from a table hastily, melting the metal and adding it to the silver from his armlet to form a narrow blade nearly three feet in length. The impromptu weapon was a bit jagged but well balanced, more than adequate for the purpose he intended.

"All right, then. This should be fun." The dark eyed boy drew a curved blade from the sheath at his belt and fell into a guard stance. With one hand raised, he created a wave of air, pushing the books against the wall out of the way. There wasn't any finesse in the movement, but it cleared the floor and ensured the tomes wouldn't be accidentally mussed.

Heero was still smiling as he attempted to gauge his opponent's power. Trowa could have levitated the books with little more than a thought and stacked them neatly one atop the other on a table. That the newcomer did not; meant he was likely elemental based, as Heero was himself. Then the other boy lunged and there was little more time to devote to analysis.

Blades crossed, tangling with one another. Both youths were about the same age, at least the stranger couldn't be more than fifteen. He and Heero were similar in both weight and height. The prince pressed the attack, and his opponent executed a neat back-flip to evade the strike. Heero was accustomed to such things from sparring with his brother, so he was not taken by surprise as the other had hoped. He corrected automatically and shaved the toggle-like buttons off the other boy's tunic. The shirt opened to reveal an expanse of golden skin and finely defined muscles.

The stranger shrugged off the ruined garment. With a thin smile, he conjured a ball of fire and thrust it at Heero. The prince was forced to withdraw a few paces pulling moisture out of the air to quench the fire before retaliating with a small bolt of lightning.

The obsidian-eyed boy retreated a few steps and brought his hands together smothering the lightning with opposing walls of air. "You have no idea who you are dealing with!" the boy hissed, holding his arms out in a pose that, on someone else, might have indicated surrender, but his eyes declared nothing of the sort. "Nataku, be my strength!" he called out, and a small firedrake swept down from the rafters.

The beast dug its claws into the boy's shoulders to merge with his flesh; its body melted into his own until there was only a ridge of scales running down his spine, powerful leather wings half-furled and tail lashing. The beast's snake-like neck emerged over his shoulder, snapping viciously at Heero with pearl white fangs before draping around his neck, to lay its head on the boy's opposite shoulder. Within seconds, the young firedrake was joined with its young master. It was an impressive sight.

But the First Prince of Yue was not easily impressed. "You don't know who you face either," Heero confirmed evenly. With a swell of power he caused air to bubble up through the stones paving the hall. Then, with a jerk of his writs, he loosed the power rolling like a wave jerking the rug from under the Dragon Lord's feet. With a wave of his hands the prince melted the metal pins holding a great tapestry on the wall behind the stranger. The boy stumbled backward falling hard seconds before the massive textile wall hanging eclipsed his world in musty darkness.

The lump wriggled and the muffled sounds coming from it were unlike any Heero had ever heard. The First Prince wondered if the other was having some sort of fit or perhaps suffocating beneath the heavy folds of cloth. Then he wondered if he should do anything about it. Not having emotions to be ones guide in such matters made such decisions chancy at times. Heero frowned, puzzling the situation for a few more heartbeats before sighing and moving to help untangle the struggling stranger.

When the heavy tapestry finally fell away, the sprawled figure was covered from head to foot in fine grey powder. His leathery wings were fluttering ineffectively as he lay gasping between fits of coughing and laughter. "Justice." he squawked. Tears streamed from his sloe eyes, carving silver trails in the dust on his cheeks.

Heero had no idea what to make of the situation. With a slight gesture, he pulled a globe of water out of the air and let it break on the boy's head.

The sudden drenching seemed to snap the other boy out of his fit, and he blinked owlishly at the prince before admitting, "I concede, we have met our match."

"I still don't think you have any business here," Heero replied emotionlessly. Aside from himself and Trowa, there were no others their age in the entire castle. Zechs and Trace were exceptions; Of course they only aged when they were awake and aware and so their memory of the passage of time was somewhat sketchy. They had been in the treasury for as long as the princes could remember, and had been teens even then. Still, they were the closest peers the boys had. This stranger was clearly an anomaly.

"I am Chang WuFei." The young Dragon Lord bowed in the manner of the eastern kingdoms. The scaled tail twined about his slim waist like a belt and the wings folded neatly across his bear shoulders appearing as natural as a cloak. The effect was ruined however when the cloak's 'clasp' at his collarbone emitted a draconic snort of indifference and twin tendrils of smoke curled from its nostrils. "This is ShenLong Nataku." The boy introduced idly scratching the fire-drake's eye ridge. She opened one green eye to regard him sleepily, then nestled her snout back against his throat. Now that the action was over she just wanted to nap.

"I am Heero, First Prince of Yue," Heero told him.

WuFei's eyes opened wide in surprise. Heero almost thought the other boy would squeak out, "The cursed prince!" as most people did upon meeting him, as if perhaps his curse were something contagious. Many still fell in obeisance just so they don't have to physically touch him. To his credit, the Dragon Lord did no such thing. Instead, he held out his hand as one equal greeting another.

This action also took the prince by surprise. He looked at the proffered hand suspiciously until he recalled Trace explaining what he should do if anyone did make such a gesture. He concentrated on twisting his lips into a smile and clasped WuFei's forearm firmly, as the other returned the gesture. "Well met." The cursed prince mumbled in a somewhat stilted fashion.

"I am here seeking news of my clan." The Dragon Lord explained. "I was in the mountains learning to bond with Nataku and when I returned home there was no sign of my people. I had heard the library here in the palace is the most extensive in all of Yue. It is common knowledge the King makes it his business to track all events of note in the surrounding kingdoms. As soon as I arrived in the capital I went to see the royal archivist. I was hoping these—" he indicated the tomes he had been carrying, "--can shed some light on the subject."

"As far as I know, dragon lords died out years ago. There was word of a plague, but I don't know anything for certain. There is a good chance you are the last of your kind," Heero announced offhandedly.

WuFei's eyes hardened at Heero's blunt assessment "I recall the sickness foreigners brought to our lands. My people recovered and were strong when last I saw them." The Dragon Lord's lips closed in a harsh line. Heero could tell he was experiencing some strong emotion, but couldn't guess what it could be, or what he had done to cause it.

"I…we…would be grateful for any help you could give." The words came out with measured formality, and WuFei ended the request with another bow, deeper this time.

"Trace might know more about the situation, but I don't know for certain that he will be able to give you the answers you seek. It is difficult for him at times," the prince amended.


	8. To Catch a Break

Part Eight-To Catch a Break

Part Eight-To Catch a Break

After the excitement of the previous evening, Duo and his new companion slept late into the morning. The sun was high when the urchin's stomach first urged him to wakefulness with its irritable complaints. Duo reluctantly dug his way out of the sweet smelling nest of hay in the loft of the livery stables, careful not to disturb the quietly snoring lump that had been huddled up against his side.

He climbed down the ladder and managed to procure a handful of oats and two wrinkled apples with which to break his fast. Duo hated stealing from the stable master, though, Howard was a generous soul and had often suggested he didn't mind if the boy took from the stores when things got tight. The urchin sliced the apples in small pieces and mixed it with the crushed oats and a bit of water in a tin cup someone had discarded after it had become too dented.

The braided boy held the cup in both hands; humming softly and occasionally blowing across the mixture. Soon it began to warm. It wasn't magic per-say; he imagined what a breakfast of warm oatmeal and apples would feel like, how it would smell, how it would taste--and it was so. It wasn't anything special, not like real magic.

He climbed back up the ladder and saw his companion regarding him sleepily from his nest, straw stuck to his clothing and tangled in his golden locks. There was a particular twist to the boy's mouth, and his wide azure eyes seemed abnormally wide, as if he had absolutely no notion where he was or how he had come to be here--which wasn't surprising, really.

"Mornin' Kitty Kat, want some grub?" Duo offered the cup to him.

"Mmmmnn." The other boy blinked owlishly, taking the cup and gazing into it as if hoping that it contained the answers to the questions that flitted about his sleep numb mind. He breathed in the scent and his stomach reminded him food was meant to be eaten, not admired. "Spoon?" he queried plaintively.

"Spoon...spoon…um." Duo considered. "Got it!" he declared finally, clambering back down into the stables. There was a small forge in the back corner Howard used to turn horseshoes and work other small bits like nails and such. He rummaged around in the bin and finally came up with a slightly bent fork. Returning to his companion he held it out with obvious pride.

"T-thank you." The winner heir took the item and quickly polished off the rough meal. Only belatedly did he realize the braided boy eyed the now-empty cup with something akin to yearning. "Oh…oh…I ate your breakfast, didn't I? How terribly insensitive, I am so sorry! I thought you had already eaten, otherwise I never would have." he stammered.

Duo gave him a slow smile, "It's alright, Kit-cat. There are plenty of oats below. I c'n make more."

Quatre followed him shakily down the ladder. It was hard to imagine that this was the same boy that had leapt almost four feet from a tree limb to the rickety awning of a condemned house. "Where are we, exactly?" the blonde asked once he was safely on the ground.

"Northgate Livery Stable," Duo explained, fishing out some oats from a bucket near a stack of warn nosebags. The water came from a ubiquitous water trough - there were no more apples to be had this late in the season. Again, Quatre felt a sharp stab of guilt. "You were so generous in letting me have your breakfast; I wish I had some butter or cinnamon to go with yours."

"Butter and cinn-a-min," Duo thought aloud. "If you can wish it, I can do it. Come on." He grabbed the boy's hand and dragged him out the door and into the street.

"I can't go out like this!" the blonde boy squeaked, and almost dove back inside.

"What's wrong?" Duo was a bit surprised to have been jerked backward through the door. He grabbed the frame or he would have ended up on his knees.

"I must look a terrible fright, all dirt smudged and grass stained. And if that weren't enough, these are my night clothes. It would be unseemly if I were seen like this. Besides, I'd be far too noticeable."

"Seem like nice togs to me, Cat, better quality than what I've got, but if you want to borrow my spares, you're welcome to." Duo rummaged in a dark corner and emerged with a bundle.

Quatre took the pile of what seemed to be rags and retreated into an empty stall to dress. He emerged looking like a well groomed urchin, with tattered knee-pants and a baggy black tunic belted with a piece of rough twine.

"You aren't used to going barefoot, I'd gather," Duo guessed, motioning for the other boy to sit on a box while he tied a pair of rough sandals around his ankles. "All right, all set—" he announced, ruffling the blonde's hair playfully. "—Lets go!"

0-0-0-0-0

It wasn't far to the market, and it was already bustling. Animals and people filled the streets. The shopkeepers loudly cried their wears, trying to compel the people to buy. The young Winner heir had never experienced so many strange sights, sounds, and smells, not all of them pleasant. He gaped unabashedly and let the braided urchin drag him from place to place almost unawares. They paused at seemingly random intervals, and Quatre lost count of how many times he thoughtlessly walked into the elder boy when he stopped without warning.

"Butter, butter...who's got the butter," Duo mumbled under his breath as they paused at the corner outside the creamery. "Ah." He focused on his finger in intense concentration singing softly, and in a flash, there was a dab of the yellow substance on his finger tip. He hastily smeared it inside the lip of his tin cup and dragged the blonde off in the opposite direction.

"Sin-a-min, where do you think there is some, Cat boy?" Duo asked.

"Someplace that sells spices, I would think. I've never been in a market this big. In Wei, where I am from, the bazaar is a seasonal thing where vendors come from all over to set up temporary stalls to sell their wears. This is very new for me."

Duo darted off again dragging the blonde down several back alleys before wading through a small flock of sheep being driven down the main thoroughfare. Quatre was distracted by the cute fluffy animals bleating and jostling one another he hardly noticed when they reached the shop of the spice merchant. "Do you think you can point out which is Sim-e-nimn?" Duo asked, "I've never had it before."

"Really, I'd never have guessed," the blonde deadpanned. "Is pronounced 'Cinnamon,' and it is the inner bark of an evergreen tree that grows in the spice-islands. It looks like a thick rolled parchment, reddish-brown."

"Hmm." Duo glanced around the tables and shelves full of vials and small bundles of roots and leaves. No sooner had he caught sight of something that fit the blonde's description when the mix of fragrances got to him and he sneezed, drawing the merchant's attention, and his ire. The heavy-set man shouted and flailed his arms at the boys, chasing them from his shop.

When the boys stopped running to catch their breath in a secluded alley there was a cinnamon stick and the handle of a spoon, a _silver_ spoon, sticking proudly from the side of Duo's tin cup where the bent fork had been. Quatre noticed it and his bright blue eyes widened. "Y-you are a thief." He whispered as if daring Duo to deny the accusation.

The look on the braided boy's face was comical as he grinned widely. "No, duh, 'course I am, Cat. Didn't you know?"

"I-I." the blue eyed boy faltered, biting his lip uncertainly.

"You are too cute, you know that?" Duo ruffled his blonde hair, barely resisting the urge to hug the stuffing out of the younger boy on principle alone.

"Urchins don't get handouts, slaves get less. Sometimes ya' gotta take what ya' need ta' make do. Speaking of which, I can heat this here oat mash and we can have some lunch. How about it?" It was well past noon by this time, he was beginning to feel a bit hollow, but Quatre wasn't about to take another meal from the braided boy.

Still, he did show Duo how to scrape the cinnamon stick to make powder so it would last longer. He was astonished to see the urchin's method for heating his meal, but Duo refused even to consider that he had done anything at all out of the ordinary.

"Can you cool things too?" Quatre inquired, even though Duo's expression clearly implied he wanted the other boy to let the matter go.

The blonde was quite persistent, and the braided boy finally admitted, "Well, I might have cooled roof tiles a few times during the summer, but it really is nothing."

"What else can you do?" Cat implored.

"I don't…I can't… I just wish stuff that's all. If I can close my eyes and see it clearly enough then…sometimes it happens. Not all the time, sometimes humming helps, but it's not like magic or anything." he shrugged uncomfortably under the intense cerulean gaze.

"I beg to differ; it is just like magic…in fact what you describe is a rare magical talent called summoning—why didn't you get a tutor? Even one of the academies arcane could have trained you to perfect your skills."

"Phist! There ain't nothin' perfect 'bout me. I can't even hardly read." Duo dug the stack of papers from his belt pouch and threw them disdainfully on the ground. "Who would bother to train scum like me? Tell me. I'm a thief remember? All the wishing in the world can't change that."

"Oh Duo!" Quatre's large eyes grew tearful. The hurt radiating from the other boy bit harshly into the blonde boy's heart. The fact that he felt it so poignantly was enough cause to give the blonde pause. He bent to retrieve the papers, leafing through the pile. "You stole these?" the noble asked, still trying to wrap his head around the idea. There was the deed to a house on the south side of town, a trade agreement between a mercenary guild and a lesser noble called Deklin Barlett, and the rest were all slave documentation.

"Had to, Cat, one of 'em's mine," he mumbled roughly, rolling up his sleeve to reveal his slave mark. "The phantom off-ed my master, and I wasn't about to let the opportunity pass me by. Besides, he's the one that forced me to steal in the first place…do unto others what they'd have done to you, and all that, you know." Duo scuffed his bare feet on the cobbles.

In a breathy whisper, the braided boy admitted "He was a mean son of a sow. He deserved it."

With the slave mark to compare to the records, the blonde should have had no difficulty telling which pack of papers was his, and Duo had no doubt "thief" was likely the best of the job descriptions listed on the document. "I need to get those papers back to those that they belong to. The devil Deklin is dead. None of us should get sold again. Think you can help figure out which one belongs to my pal Solo first? He's a good lad what taught me my hidey-hidey, sneakie-sneak skills."

Quatre skimmed the papers. "Solo," he mumbled to himself. "I have one here for an 'H. Solon' it says "apprentice/slave taken as surety for contract outstanding." Quatre read aloud then asked. "Your master told you he was a runaway?"

"Oh he escaped alright, and he's the best! He ran and won't be found if he doesn't want to be."

The little blonde shook his head, "He's been gone a little over four years?"

"Y-yes" Duo frowned, not liking the other boy's expression.

"I don't condone slavery or anything of the kind but my father had business dealings with some of the desert tribes who do. As his heir I've seen contracts of this type before. If Solo was a Runaway his contract would be marked with an A.L. for 'At Large.' It would also bear the seal of the local authorities sent to hunt him. But the only mark I see, are the initials O.L. with a date. I'm not certain, but I believe that indicates he is 'On Loan.' If Deklin lent him to another noble you might have a difficult time finding him, not to mention the courts would side with them if you did try to get him back. As much as I hate the notion, In most kingdoms in thee empire, possession is nine tenth's the law,."

"The paper lies." Duo hissed rapping his arms around himself. "Solo's running free. Barlett the varlet didn't want to admit loosing him. It would have been a mark against his pride. It might have made people question his authority. But, now that the devil is dead and I have his papers. Solo can come back and we will take care of each other--Duo and Solo two of a kind, just like old times. He is safe, he has to be! I just know it!" The braided boy mumbled more to himself than to Quatre.

Quatre frowned as he continued to ruffle through the papers. "There is a notation here about retaining all paperwork for purpose of blackmail and…" the sentence trailed off as Quatre's full attention focused on the next packet. His aquamarine eyes flicked over slave mark on his companion's shoulder just to make certain he wasn't mistaken. The blonde licked his lips, suddenly gone dry. When he spoke his voice was little more than a whisper. "Duo, according to these papers, you were bought as an indentured servant. The term is expired. You've been free almost two years. Your friend Solo would be as well, unless he has been registered some where else as a runaway—you didn't know?"

"T-two y-years?! I've been slaving for him for….That no good slimy festering roach! May he burn in the darkest parts of the abyss!" Duo growled. "If I hadn't felt his death-rattle down the back of my neck, I swear I'd kill him again just to be sure!"

Quatre blanched at his companion's descriptive language, but the more he read, the more he understood where the other boy was coming from. The things recorded openly in black and white were enough to make his stomach turn. Apparently, Duo's master had been into just about every illegal enterprise one could imagine and he had made sure his people were in the thick of it; the braided boy never really had a chance.

"I'm sorry," the blonde breathed. "I am so very sorry. If there is anything I can do, anything in my power, you can be sure I will do it. I promise."


	9. Full Disclosure

Part Nine–Full Disclosure

Part Nine–Full Disclosure

Heero led WuFei back to the training room leaving the dust and tangled tapestry to be righted by servants. It would never even occur to him to do anything to right the mess he created, regardless of the fact that he could have done so with veritable ease with the aid of his magic.

He had already swept the condition of the hall from his mind and was intent on reaching the training room before his brother gave up waiting for him and returned the Jewels to the treasury.

No such luck. It was already well past noon. Heero had missed lunch on account of his fit of piqué and Trowa never took dinner with the rest of them. It was far more important that he get some rest before his nightly excursion into the town.

Heero frowned into the empty room then turned back to the Dragon Lord "We've missed them. You'll have to wait till tomorrow morning."

"Well, I suppose I could come back…" WuFei rubbed his chin thoughtfully.

"Don't leave." Heero said evenly. Lacking natural inflection and possessing only limited non-verbal cues made it difficult for those who didn't know the first prince to judge the implications behind his words. Conversation was not his forte and likely never would be. But Trace had tried to convince him of the value and necessity of sharing his thought processes with those he trusted…which were incidentally the same few who knew not to be offended by his candor.

Heero didn't know if WuFei ought to be counted among 'those he trusted' he usually relied on Trowa's assessment of new people and if the perceptive Night Prince thought someone was worthwhile than invariably First Prince would act accordingly. To date the silent prince accepted Zechs and Trace, Sally—the king's Royal physician, Noin one of the palace guards, and Hildi, the maid who cleaned their quarters…That was it.

The girls were much older and usually occupied with their own duties…besides which, they were girls, and according to Zechs, that by definition made them indecipherable. In any case, they didn't make particularly good company. The Jewels, having fulfilled their duty, were back to their dormant state. Trowa was sleeping as well and Heero really didn't want to sit in on yet another endless session of court with Jae.

WuFei was, available. He was near the prince's age, a foreigner and seemed willing to speak to him. All things considered, one could begin to understand the reasoning behind Heero's words when he said, "Stay."

It came out as an order which made the ebony haired Dragon Lord bristle. Thanks to the Jewel's tireless instruction it only took about a minute for Heero to realize he needed to say more to convince the other boy. He squared his shoulders and emotionlessly declared, "I think I am lonely. There is no one to talk to and you seem interesting."

WuFei was a bit taken aback that the other youth would admit to a weakness such as loneliness but he had to admit the cursed prince also fell into the category he would class as 'interesting.' None the less, his pride would not permit him to accept such an invitation without comment. "I am not here to entertain you First Prince." WuFei scoffed but before the other could retort he continued "But I will stay."

"Good." Heero nodded firmly. "Come to my garden. We can talk there."

It was a secluded atrium near the princes' tower. There was nothing ornamental about it, in fact the open space could easily have been said to have been let go to seed. The predominant feature was ivy though there was a fair amount of wisteria and grape vines snaking about the place attempting to dominate a very dead tree in the center of the garden. This place was clearly a haunt of spiders not butterflies. WuFei could not help but reflect that it rather suited the reclusive prince.

Heero led the way to a place that might have been a secluded bower at some point during the castle's infancy. There was a weather-beaten stone table surrounded by low benches. On the table was a crystal chess-set, the pieces left to reflect a game in progress. It seemed very out of place in this forgotten grotto.

"My brother and I come here sometimes." Heero said in response to WuFei's unvoiced question. He settled himself on one of the benches and motioned for WuFei to join him.

Once the Dragon Lord had complied Heero began again. Well aware of his flawed people skills he thought it best to volunteer information before interrogating his new companion in earnest. "You want to ask about the curse, don't you?"

"I have heard it spoken of in the town." WuFei stated, admitting nothing. He had already sparred once with the prince…this was a contest of another type. He removed one of the knights from the chess board passing it from one hand to the other before returning it to the square it occupied previously.

"This is as close as I can get to the outside." the prince said, his voice flat, bereft of any emotion whatsoever. "The curtain wall is about 30 meters that way. I am ever aware of the boundary and my proximity to it. When I was younger I tried to flaunt the curse--see how near I could get before the pain got too much. Somewhere deep inside I expect I wanted to feel something…I didn't care what it was."

"So that is it? You are imprisoned here by pain?"

Heero snorted in some shallow approximation of laughter. "If only." He said. "I loose reason and restraint. I become an animal--a maddened wolf that will strike any who comes within reach. Only my brother can call me back to reason, and that triggers his curse as well."

"Does your shape change when the curse falls upon you?"

"I have no conscious awareness of anything that goes on…and Trowa can't say what he has seen. I can not be sure what happes. I do know I have killed when in thrall to the curse. I expect I would feel guilty if I were capable of it. But the curse keeps me from that as well." he said with utter indifference.

The two sat in silence for a few minutes before Heero decided to revive the conversation. "Can you fly?" he asked with the same casual attitude one would remark upon the weather.

"With Nataku's aid, of course; when we are joined it is a true symbiotic relationship. Dragon-kin are more together, than either of us are apart." WuFei unfurled his wings and stretched them over his head then out to the side. There really hadn't been enough room to do that in the narrow hall where the two of them had sparred earlier. It felt good to stretch. Heero could see the wingspan was easily as broad as the boy was tall.

The First Prince decided that if his new companion was willing to put himself on display, then he would take advantage of it. Heero rose to his feet and walked around the other youth to get a better view of the anomaly that was WuFei Chang, Dragon lord.

To be fair, fire-drakes weren't dragons so the title is a bit of a misnomer in WuFei's case. Trace's illuminated bestiary depicted dragons as massive beasts, possessing strong rear legs for locomotion, and weaker forelimbs with clawed hands suited for grasping or tearing. Their wings have a structure similar to that of a great bird except that that they have scales rather than feathers. The beasts tended to be solid colors, ranging from gold to black.

Fire drakes, Trace explained, were generally multicolored and considerably smaller, comparable in size to a golden eagle but more bat-like in wing configuration. They had one set of strong limbs with grasping talons similar to those of dragons but a drake's wings are far more versatile and can be equated with arms possessing long spindly fingers that in addition to being webbed to enable flight that can be used with equal facility to aid climbing.

Presently, the only visible parts of the drake, was its head, neck, spine ridge, tail and wings, All of which looked to be grafted magically onto the eastern youth's body. There was a subtle bulge beneath the flesh where the drake's limbs were likely situated and the flight muscles gave more definition to the boy's shoulders and back. As Heero was trying to reconcile what he knew of draconic physionomony with what he could observe WuFei nudged the drake awake and telepathically urged her to separate from him.

The wings folded back and the snake like neck reared, like an eagle rising from the roost, the drake's body pulled loose from the youth's pallid flesh. With a powerful flap of wings the creature launched itself into the air and soared effortlessly to perch among the wisteria crowning the dead tree. Heero could not help but note the wicked claws left deep scars stretching from the Dragon Lord's collarbone and shoulder blades.

"Did it hurt?" The first prince asked idly.

"At first…very much; I was eight when I was first taken into the mountains to join with Nataku. I'm not sure exactly how many years I lived in the shrine of the Long clan. Finding balance was difficult. I am a scholar by nature but both Nataku and I are strong willed. I have grown accustomed to her thoughts now, as I expect has she has my own, but it is not always easy. It is good we can separate for a time and go our own way. I am not often…lonely." WuFei mused remembering the Prince's earlier comment. "But Nataku's companionship is not like that shared among human-kind. I have perhaps become a bit stiff necked from my solitary ways. I apologize for my role in our scuffle earlier."

"I am not exactly one to judge what is considered normal human interaction." Heero snorted again, "I have been schooled how a prince should act but I have no emotional compass to help me judge how my actions will affect those around me. It causes problems as well."

0-0-0-0-0

Trowa woke after sunset. He had managed to get a good six hours of sleep. A platter of sandwiches and fruit had been set on the bedside table. He ate his meal with little gusto, washing it down with bitter tea before dressing in mottled clothing of black and grey he could feel the shadows gathering already. They would conceal his presence while roaming the city keeping him isolated but, for the most part, safe.

The door opened and Heero slipped into the room and regarded his silent brother with intense cobalt eyes. "I wanted to catch you before you went out. Something happened." The First Prince admitted his mouth in a firm line as he reasoned what words to use in explanation then he frowned. "I'm not sure mind you; but, I suspect, I may have…made a friend?" One of Heero's eyebrows quirked up a fraction of an inch indicating the last bit was in fact an incredulous question rather than a statement.

"You what!" Trowa gasped green eyes wide with astonishment before the curse closed his throat and sent him quaking to his knees.

"That was uncalled for." Heero frowned as he helped the Night Prince recover from his momentary lapse. "I DO listen to what Trace says about interacting with people. Some of it even seems reasonable. It is not completely unbelievable that I would… alright I suppose it is. But it helps that WuFei is hardly normal himself, He is a dragon lord. He and his firedrake are trying to find out what happened to the rest of their kind."

Trowa frowned and grabbed his flute playing a quick trill of notes.

"I can't say that I trust him any more than I trust anyone." Heero translated the musical query, "but I can tell you he is a strong fighter, both by force of arms and arcane skill. Fighting Zechs or Trace isn't really a challenge for me anymore. They don't have access to their full power and it exhausts them too quickly. You aren't afraid to use your magic to the full when we spar but I am as accustomed to your style as I am to my own. It was challenging to face him. Afterwards we spent most of the afternoon in the garden talking."

Four low notes, slow and measured. Trowa hung his head letting his long fringe shroud his face.

That was not the response Heero expected. Trace had been pushing him to be more outgoing for years. He had been tirelessly drilled on all facets and theory of interpersonal communication. In general the Day Prince knew he was still weak at best in such subjects but he DID try. And for once it hadn't been an unmitigated disaster.

Trowa's notes didn't sound pleased. Why? He wracked his brain for a few tense minutes before coming to a conclusion. They'd spent most of the afternoon talking…a conversation was the one thing Trowa could never have. "He can't replace you, I still need you, you know." He shrugged.

Earnest Green-eyes shown through the curtain of hair, the Night Prince took hold of his brother's wrist and pressed the other boy's palm to his cheek in silent thanks for the sentiment. Then, with a slight wave, he casually stepped backward out the window.

Trowa smirked at his brother's sullen frown as he plummeted downward toward the courtyard below. Zechs would be irate at his recklessness. Flying…not falling, though the distinction was rather subjective. The Night Prince stretched out his hand and grabbed a hold of a flagpole protruding from the towers face. He let his momentum take him under and around the pole with the ease of an acrobat.

His soft soled boots contacted the wall for an instant and he pushed off from it as if from a spring board. Trowa arched, his back flipping head over heals in mid air then flung his arms out so the magic could get a better hold on him. His decent slowed dramatically but he did not hover, instead landed lightly on the cobbles and strode purposefully into the night.

Confidence was a grand thing. The cursed princes did not have an easy life but despite the hardships of their conditions both princes knew they could accomplish just about anything if they had the support of the other. It was a wellspring of strength as vast and as deep as the magic that sustained them. A touch of compassion from his stone hearted brother went a good way to ensure the second prince was going to have a great night.

Trowa was feeling hopeful as he gently caressed the flute, still tucked in his belt. He'd forgotten to return it to his case. Perhaps he would find a quiet place on the outskirts of town and attempt to compose something pleasant for Heero. He systematically wandered the streets looking in on all his usual haunts finding nothing at all out of the ordinary.

He had no jobs for the king and the city was at peace. There would be no trouble. The city guards hadn't mistaken him for the Shinigami thief and chased him half way across the district. No drunken brawls crowded into streets barring his path. No gangs of ruffians attempted to waylay him in the dark alleys. It looked like he could relax. Soon he would be alone with his music and the moon it would be perfect.

Of course nothing ever works out exactly like we plan.


	10. Cornered Cat

Part Ten--Cornered Cat

Part Ten--Cornered Cat

Trowa's nightly excursion had been among the best so far this month. The last time he enjoyed himself this much had been when traveling a circus had been in the capital. He dared slip beneath the stands to watch the performers and after the place had quieted he snuck back to pet the big cats.

Of course he's been discovered. A curly-haired girl demanded he get away from the cages and when he didn't obey fast enough, she threw a knife at him. Her eyes were so wide when he used his talent to halt the blade, inches from his temple and effortlessly plucked it out of the air. He absently stroked the knife, now sheathed at his belt. She likely forgot him moments after he had left the tent, but he'd kept the blade as a memento of one of the few nights he truly enjoyed.

If he wasn't a prince, Trowa could almost imagine himself living that type of life, as an acrobat on the high-wire, traveling from place to place, free—_but_ for the curse. It would never work. Headliners can't be forgettable and establishing rapport with the crowd was essential. He couldn't even be a proper clown when simply attempting to mime left him with a splitting headache.

Trowa was jolted out of his revere by the unmistakable meaty thump of flesh contacting painfully with flesh and a stifled cry followed by a growl of frustration. A sense he tried always to listen to, urged him not to ignore the sounds and go on his way.

Someone was in trouble, his steps quickened. He rounded a corner and entered the alley between the blacksmiths and a shop that sold flowers. There was a sizable mob assembled but they did not look to be either locals or guards.

The principal antagonists' had long poles with a loop of rope at the end that looked to be some sort of lasso or snare. The others were armed with knives or clubs. It did not look good for the two smaller figures the men had backed up against the wall at the end of the alleyway. The taller urchin looked somewhat familiar with a long chestnut braid dangling over his shoulder. The other was slight and blonde but it was difficult to see more than that.

"Come now Zero, this is no time to play." A dark skinned foreigner leered at the boys.

"Get back…don't touch him!" The elder of the two boys tried to shield his smaller companion with his ragged, underfed body.

"It's getting late. Surely you don't want to spend another night on the streets." A blonde man, tried to sound reasonable, directing his words to the younger of the two, but neither of the boys were buying it.

"I'm warning you leave us alone." The first youth motioned threateningly and backed up a pace attempting to crowd the other boy into the corner where he could be better protected. The little one was trembling visibly and hunched over into the shadows.

"It is not safe here. Not for you. Not for him. Step away." another of the armed men told the elder of the two. It was a distraction, the moment the first turned to face the speaker the blonde man lunged at the younger boy. The loop drooped, noose like around his neck and was pulled tight. The men were trying to separate the two boys and Trowa was just about to step in, summoning the power of his magic to hand when things suddenly got considerably more complicated.

The smaller boy let out a scream that was anything but human and fell to the ground clutching his chest with both hands. Another of the men tried to slip his lasso around the blonde boy's wrists. He clearly wasn't going easily. The youth growled and rolled toward his attackers attempting to throw them off balance and get away. One of the men brought his club down on the boy's shoulder and there was another animalistic cry of pain.

At the same time, the taller of the two boys backed up against the wall and stiffened visibly. It seemed his hand slipped through the white-washed brick, merging with the shadows as if slipping beneath the surface of a pond. The stone seemed to ripple and when he brought his hand from the stone he was holding a scythe. "I said **Leave Him be**!" the boy used the unexpected weapon to turn the tables on the attackers. Several of the men had cause to dodge the reaper's blade. A few hadn't managed it.

The elder boy took down two of his attackers and sent two more fleeing out of the alley. The silent prince brought his hands up effortlessly cracking the two men's heads together, instead of finding escape, they found only unconsciousness.

The boy with the scythe didn't notice Trowa's approach as he was trying to glance over his shoulder at the pile of bodies attempting to subdue the tiny slip of a boy—except they were no longer dealing with a boy. They were in fact wrestling with a very irate Nimr.

Trowa had only heard about the tawny mountain cats from the Arabische desert but he was certain that was indeed what the men were now faced with. Bluest eyes blazing, tufted ears laid back against his head in anger, fangs bared, claws extended from velvety paws… In a matter of heartbeats there was blood pooling on the cobbles and he doubted very much that any of it belonged to the cat.

Trowa dispatched another of the attackers rendering him unconscious before the large feline could rip the man's throat out. The other two men were likely already dead. "Wow, Kitty Kat, this is new." the braided boy regarded his companion with apparent surprise. "Are you hurt at all?"

The Nimr got to its feet shrugging off the ropes that had sought to restrain it. The long lean tail twitched and it let out a low growl. All the attackers had fled or been disposed of now it was just the two of them standing there, and there was still an incredibly wild look to those blue eyes. "Come on kit-cat, were friends right?" The braided boy dropped the scythe and raised his hands in innocence.

The silent prince knew the beasts' look all too well, he had seen it often enough shining in his brother's eyes when the curse was upon him. The urchin didn't seem to see his danger. Trowa frowned and slipped closer to the other two, waiting till the soft breeze brought his sent to the Nimr.

The feline head swiveled instantly and it hissed. "Who the heck are you?" the braided boy asked him. Trowa ignored him focusing entirely on the feline. He dropped to one knee and with an understated mew he held out a hand to the creature. Green eyes locked with blue and the Prince inched closer. The large cat leaned its head into his palm and Trowa turned the move into a slight caress.

"Hay, I asked you a question." The braided boy tried again seemingly indignant at being ignored. Trowa glanced at the boy out of the corner of his eye and recalled why he seemed so familiar…the length of the braid had confused him when he had last seen it in Barlett's apartment.

The urchin hadn't seen him then and apparently didn't recognize him now. Truthfully, it wasn't unusual for the Night Prince to go unrecognized, by the people in his own capital city. The coins bore the king's face…or occasionally Heero's, never his own. He should be accustomed to being overlooked or forgotten outright. But it still hurt a bit when facing people who didn't realize he was incapable of answering. In fact, He'd likely have better luck trying to communicate with the cat.

Trowa sighed, seeking refuge once more in those luminous pools of blue. Animals possessed less complicated minds. Sometimes it seemed he could almost reach them without triggering the curse. He knew the Nimr wasn't really a beast but he hoped, just this once…'See me.' He pleaded silently. 'Know me.' He dug long thin fingers into the unimaginably soft fur--much softer than the circus lion's had been. It was the color of rich honey with light golden spots, to mimic the dappled patterns of the desert sands. He could see why hunters would value them so.

A raspy tongue flicked across the back of his hand and a shaggy head pressed into his chest and he could feel the big cat's rumbled purr. Trowa didn't even realize there were tears streaking his cheeks.

The braided urchin watched the silent exchange amethyst eyes full of questions. "I'm Duo by the way…Duo Maxewell." He volunteered finally, "That there is Cat…but I expect you can see that for yourself. I don't know why those creeps were after us…we didn't even steal anything…well not lately. Not since this morning. But I mean a guy's got to eat doesn't he."

Then his eyes settled on the scythe he had summoned through the wall of the smithy. "That wasn't theft." he pointed to the object. "I just borrowed it. It was self defense, really…Maybe I should put this back, hun?" he picked the tool up and went over to the wall. He rubbed his hands together then tried to return it to the place he had seen it earlier leaning against the wall inside the shop. -Clunk- metal and wood refused to pass through stone. He tried again –scrape- still no luck. "I'm not used to performing for an audience." The boy babbled into the silence. There was still no sign either the other two were paying the least bit of attention to him. Finally, he decided to leave the scythe leaning against the outside. Mumbling to himself he reasoned that someone would likely find it in the morning.

Trowa idly wondered if the braided boy had a curse the opposite of his own…he certainly seemed to abhor silence filling it with a steady stream of words. The prince envied him with every fiber of his being. The Nimr raised its head making eye contact again and slowly its form blurred and altered, only those liquid blue orbs remained the same, till the small blonde boy was kneeling before him. "I'm Quatre." He whispered shyly.

"Tro—" the syllable slipped between his lips before the curse twisted it off painfully.

The blonde's eyes darkened suddenly and he rubbed his chest as if it pained him in sympathy. "You are the prince." He breathed in awe.

Trowa nodded glumly. "The what?" Duo wanted to know, "What was that kitty?"

"Prince Trowa isn't it?" Quatre turned to the braided boy looking for confirmation that that was indeed the name of the second prince of Yue.

Duo nodded wide-eyed, speechless at last.


	11. Missing Pieces

Part Eleven—Missing Pieces

Part Eleven—Missing Pieces

The sun was peeking through the eyelet window on the east side of the tower. Heero woke to find his brother had not yet returned from his nightly jaunt. It was not unusual that the Night Prince stayed out all hours but he always tried to be back by dawn. He was clearly overdue and the restriction of the curse was such that Heero couldn't go looking for him. The First Prince dressed hastily and dispatched Noin and some of the more trusted guardsmen into the city to search, then proceeded to scowl his way through breakfast.

The king was in rare form. He drummed his three fingered hand on the table top and was unusually short tempered and downright snappish with the courtiers. Truthfully, the old man didn't look well. His skin was sallow and blotchy, he'd lost weight in the past month or so, and his eyes had a reddish cast to them.

Heero took in the information and catalogued it as dispassionately as he did anything else. There was no doubt the First Prince would intercept an assassins blade were it aimed at the king, and it wouldn't be the first time he had done so. His lithe body bore the scars as proof of it. But, if the old sorcerer were to expire right there at the table it is unlikely Heero would bat an eye.

Ambassadors and courtiers flitted and chattered like exotic birds vying for a prime roost; empty words and empty eyes. Heero knew he would be king one day but he was certain that if the curse permitted him such emotions he would unilaterally abhor the game of politics.

If one thought of the individuals of Jae's court as representative of the best and brightest of Yue one would wonder if the only thing keeping the kingdom functional…let alone prosperous…was the strength of the old man's magic. Surely there must be _some_ men of value in this vast empire. That thought immediately brought Chang to mind. He was an ambassador of sorts…The first Heero could recall meeting that wasn't an empty headed moron.

He is also my guest, my responsibility. Heero frowned at the belated realization. Trace's lessons had covered how a prince ought to extend hospitality to another…though he had never practiced it before. What was keeping Trowa! He was supposed to be the guide in relational things. The First Prince bit his lower-lip in thought trying to recall his lessons on diplomacy.

Finally, he strode to the servants lounge and motioned Hilde over to arrange for a breakfast tray to be delivered to WuFei's chamber. "Tell him join me near the main gate as his earliest convenience." The prince grumbled.

"Are you sure, my prince?" She asked, eyes-wide, that he would even suggest the gate as a meeting place of any kind. The young maid was one of the few that knew the details of the curse and the symptoms which afflicted the princes.

When questioned, Heero generally responded with a terse "Hn," but not today. Today, his voice was quiet as he admitted, "Trowa's not back yet."

"I'm sure he is fine," she answered gently touching his arm and making a point to meet his cobalt eyes. Few did. The ice in his gaze tended to chill any who dared, but the maid was one of the few to consistently make the attempt.

The gesture of encouragement was largely lost on the emotionless youth, but thanks to Trace's lessons, Heero did, at least, recognize it for what it was. He nodded smartly in acknowledgement. "I'll be outside the main hall," he reiterated and stalked off with crisp military precision in every step.

The maid sighed sadly and went to do as she had been bidden.

-0-0-0-0-

Heero sat just outside the double doors to the hall, his back pressed against the wall, knees tucked up tight to his chest, cobalt eyes peering over the bulwark of his arms. His lower lip was tender from worrying it between sharp teeth and the coopery tang of blood was a clear evidence of his…unease. Hilde had been right. He was too near the gate. His face was impassive, as always, but his shoulders trembled from time to time, as the curse sought to remind him how helpless he really was.

In the deepest part of his mind a tiny voice, long-silenced, was begging, "Hurry brother, please hurry back – I don't know how long I can stand this."

As it happened, there was still no sign of the Second Prince by the time WuFei arrived. Heero sighed; seeing no point in waiting any longer. He nodded resolutely and turned his attention to the Dragon Lord instead. "This way," He announced without preamble.

Clearly, the First Prince thought the command was a perfectly acceptable morning greeting, especially as he was somewhat preoccupied putting more distance between himself and the gaping gate which threatened to bring oblivion pouring into his mind.

WuFei smirked wordlessly and followed. He couldn't have done a better impersonation of the Second Prince had he tried. Heero, of course, was oblivious. His booted heels struck out a staccato rhythm on marble as he led the obsidian eyed youth unfailingly to the royal treasury.

It didn't occur to the First Prince that this might not be the most prudent place to bring a veritable stranger, neither did he attempt to reason what Trace and Zechs might feel about him permitting an unknown to learn their secrets.

Truthfully, the situation had never come up before, and Trowa wasn't there with a subtle touch or gesture to guide him on the matter. Heero's only thoughts revolved around the fact that WuFei wanted to learn about his people's fate, and if anyone were to know the specifics, it would be the russet haired Jewel. The only question that remained was whether Jae restricted the information from Trace's knowledge base. If he had, then the questioning would be… _difficult_.

0-0-0-0-0

WuFei trailed behind the taciturn prince. His thoughts drifted back to the decedent sleeping chamber where he had spent the previous night. Neither he nor Nataku were accustomed to such things. In the temple he'd had a sparse cell with a small wooden pallet for sleeping. For much of his training the firedrake had been little larger than a house cat, and he had been unaccountably grateful for the fact, else she never could have fit comfortably on his chest while he slept. And there certainly hadn't been room for her to sleep anywhere else.

A reasonable young man; would have relished the fine accommodations; but that would have been too easy for one Chang WuFei Scion of the Long Clan, such things hade _him_ uncomfortable. Nataku, thought nothing about accepting a prince's hospitality. She had no qualms about making the most of the situation. In fact, his partner was still there, curled sleepily in the center of the grandiose bed, sleep rumpled covers surrounding her scaled body like a nest.

The fire-drake had roused herself just long enough to devour his breakfast. Of course the assortment of fried foods and pastries and candied fruits had been two rich for him. At least that was what he had been trying to convince himself before she had settled the matter. "Greedy omnivorous lizard," he grumbled to himself.

It had smelled so good too. A far cry from the lumpy congee Master O served in the temple. But he didn't even have his customary rice gruel this morning, thanks to a certain scaled menace. Nataku would insist that she had left him some of the pastries, but semi-corrosive dragon drool is not what one would consider an acceptable condiment.

WuFei supposed it was for the best. Hunger teaches discipline, as his master used to say. Unfortunately, his stomach had never completely learned that lesson.

The fact made him feel all the more guilty. The dragon lord sighed, feeling rather forlorn. The fact was, sleeping amid feather mattress and silk coverlets and dining on rich breakfasts should have been second nature to him. He was a prince in his own right, after all, the Chang of Chang. But when he returned from the temple there had been nothing…no buildings, no people, no answers...

In his heart he knew he should be with them. Wherever they were, whatever their fate had been, he should have shared it. But the sun rose; the sun set. And he lived, day by day – there was no justice in it. He could not permit himself happiness. In indulging his own desire, he failed his people. He was here on a mission. The prince was a means to an end, nothing more.

He had no business being content…or comfortable. He had not meant to befriend Heero, but the longer they had talked, the easier it had become. Now where was he? The obsidian-eyed youth could not help but wonder if he envied the Prince his curse. Perhaps, if he couldn't feel, he couldn't hurt. WuFei frowned at the thought, thrusting it aside almost violently.

Heero had just disappeared through a low doorway in a secluded hall. A narrow stairway descended deeper into the castle before it leveled into a barrel vaulted chamber. WuFei's dark eyes grew round in surprise at the tremendous wealth he saw strewn carelessly about the room. "What is this place?" he wondered aloud

"Jae's treasury," Heero answered nonchalantly.

"W-Why are we here? I thought you were taking me to the archives," WuFei faltered.

The prince extended the well-worn non-answer, "Hn," then soundly ignored the other boy for the length of time it took to wake the Jewels.

o-o-o-o-o-o

Zechs blinked to life first. Heero had a completely 'no-nonsense' approach to everything and magic was no different. As a result, the blonde's movements were stiff and his hair was still in tangles. "Where is Trowa?" he asked with a frown, deftly cracking his neck before groping for a silver brush setting among the other treasures near his alcove. It was a beautiful piece, inlaid with mother-of-pearl and semi-precious gems. Truthfully, he didn't really care what it looked like so long as it got the tangles out, which it would since it had been spell-crafted to do just that.

"He didn't come back last night. I sent Noin and the guard after him. They haven't returned either and there has been no word. Go to the gate and inform me immediately if there is news." Heero commanded.

Zechs grunted at that, crystal-blue eyes wide. "Of course my prince," He bowed tucking the brush in his belt pouch and shrugging into his blouse, grateful he hadn't taken the time to unbutton it the previous night.

Stepping into the main chamber, he almost collided with a dark-eyed stranger. "Who is this?" he demanded. "What is he doing here?"

"None of your concern, Go." Heero's eyes narrowed in a way that declared he had no patience for this right now. The blonde understood and went to obey.

WuFei was gaping in astonishment at what had just come to pass. Not just at the unprecedented spectacle of a statue coming to life, but the fact that he was reasonably certain that he recognized said statue. The Capital of Yue wasn't the first place he had gone seeking news of his lost clan. Several months previous he had been in the boarder province of Sancier. While dining with the Vice Foreign Minister he noticed an exquisite portrait. The eyes in particular had been riveting and the coy half-smile made him shiver.

His congenial host eagerly explained the painting depicted the last heir of the Peacecræft line. The foreign minister confided that many of the people in this district still mourn the day their bright young general fell in battle for it also marked the passing the proud Kingdom of Sanc.

"Peacecraft?" He breathed the name after the hastily retreating figure.

"Zechs!" Heero snapped, a spark of anger tingeing his usually impassive voice just for an instant before it was gone again. "His name is Zechs. This is Trace. They are the King's Jewels," he said in a more even tone.

"Trace." WuFei echoed the name as he watched the russet-haired gentleman flush to life. He looked equally disconcerted at finding a stranger regarding him first thing upon waking. WuFei wished he could read what was going on within the shadowy depths of those startlingly blue eyes. "It is a pleasure to meet you, Dàifū." He bowed respectfully.

A forked eyebrow quirked at the formal address, "Great one, hmm?" the newly wakened statue practically purred. "I am not, though I thank you for the thought." He shook his head and rubbed the visibly pulsing gem situated where his heart should be. Somewhat wistfully he added, "I am called Trace for a reason. Consider the word. It means a surviving mark, some small evidence of something that has come before. Or, as the king is so fond of pointing out, one of two straps to restrain horses used to pull a carriage."

"That is no bad thing," the foreign youth mused, "when one considers princes to be fine thoroughbreds in harness to the carriage of state."

"King Jae has nothing so flattering in mind when he says it," the Jewel scoffed, but the thought caused a slight smile to grace the corner of his lips, and his sapphire eyes shone brightly.

"Trace, WuFei Chang." Heero continued the introduction as he had been schooled to do. "He is looking for information on the lost Long Clan."

Ginger-haired young man winced visibly, eyes flicking down to study his polished boots. "I am sorry," he murmured quietly, then made purposeful eye-contact with Heero. "Can we go somewhere more comfortable?" he asked.

The prince nodded once and motioned the other two back to the stairway. It was rare to see that expression from Trace. Heero knew this was not going to go easy – not in the least.


	12. Finder and Keeper

Part Twelve—Not-So-Basic Needs

Part Twelve—Finder and Keeper

Zechs was master of arms in Yue castle for a reason. He moved with precision and matchless grace both on and off the practice grounds. But returning to consciousness so abruptly and being subjected to command immediately there after left him feeling decidedly off balance. He hated feeling this way, but disobedience wasn't really an option for the king's Jewels. His life and his magic were curtailed significantly by Jae's whim, and he could barely remember a time when his life had not been like this.

The blonde touched the seamless metal collar closed about his throat trying to banish the clouds from his mind and stop his knees from trembling as he made his way unerringly to the castle gate. Common sense told him Prince Heero hadn't meant to tug quite so roughly on the magic fetter that compelled him to obey. In fact there was a real possibility the First Prince was completely unaware how strongly _that_ _tone _of voice affected them. In a heartbeat, 'I obey' became 'I _must_ obey'. All thought to the contrary grayed out till his stubborn determination was able to reassert itself once more.

He passed beneath the yawning portcullis in the barbican tower and crossed the drawbridge but didn't go far beyond it. Zechs only rarely ventured out into the city and Heero's command hadn't driven him to do so.

Common sense halted his steps when he came to a low wall situated next to the stone guard house. Lady Noin was a skilled huntress, among other things, and Zechs himself tested her guards to ensure they knew their duty and could be counted on to do it. They could scour the capital for the missing prince. Heero trusted them. It would be prudent for him to do the same.

He closed his eyes and took several deep breaths. Then, like an indolent noble, the blonde weapons master settled on the sun warmed wall where he could be in the best position to bask in the sunshine. And, if that weren't enough, he drew out the gem encrusted brush he had liberated from the kings treasury to methodically banish the tangles from his waist length tresses. He was all but oblivious to the stares the simple act caused in those passers by. In fact, one young woman almost walked into the moat. That would have been hilarious. But, alas, her companion grabbed her arm just in time to avert catastrophe.

Zechs smirked. Truthfully he was doing far more then he seemed. Trowa was _his_ prince after all and it was hard to leave the matter in the hands of others regardless of their notable skills. The undeniable truth was it _was_ late and there were any number of things that could have happened to the cursed prince. The Jewels' mind was quick to explore them and it was easy to worry after the Night Prince.

Once his breathing, and the throbbing of his crystalline heart, had taken on a more 'natural' rhythm the magical fetter Jae placed on his thoughts loosened some. Still, it took concentration to focus his magic past the metal collar.

The King had always been a much sterner taskmaster than either of the princes. Despite Heero's understandably dispassionate handling there was no question Zechs respected the dower prince. Seeing a dark eyed stranger regarding him when he felt the first flush of life pushing away the darkness had been more than a bit disconcerting. He still wondered who the young man was and what business he had with the First Prince. But, as Heero had pointed out, there were more pressing matters with which to concern himself. The fact was, Trowa was more than just his charge--he liked to think the silent youth was his friend as well.

As Zechs worked the snarls out of his hair, tendrils of his magic shifted through the capital city like a spider's web. He knew the signature of the second prince's essence as well as he knew his own. Trowa's magical aura was green, as if his eyes reflected the magic burning within. Casting about on the psychic plane he should be able to pick it out without any difficulty.

What he found was not what he expected. Trowa's magic was there of course; in fact, Zechs pinpointed him rather easily. The majority of magic users in the city were like glimmering sparks or timid candle flames. Those with true power were bonfires. What surprised him was the second prince was not alone. The green flame had joined with blue and violet, three pillars of light illuminating the void with their intensity.

Despite the vivid reminder he'd had earlier, Jae's power was waning; Zechs could feel it in his core. These strangers, like the one he'd run into in the treasury, possessed wild magic barely contained, a firestorm waiting to happen. Zechs suspected the king would not be pleased by this new development. Something had to give…and unless he missed his guess, it would be soon.

0-0-0-0-0

Quatre was limping noticeably, supported by Duo's shoulder under his left arm and Trowa's under his right to keep him from stumbling. It had not taken the other two boys long to find the dart imbedded in the meat of his thigh and remove it, but the little blonde was having difficulty fighting the effects of the drug. His sea blue eyes were glazed and half-shrouded beneath his drooping eyelids. His head listed until it was almost resting on Trowa's shoulder. "Am'sorry. A'm such'a'bother." The apology fell instinctively from his lips, but the words slurred together.

The tall youth couldn't respond, but his arm tightened across the younger boy's back, encouragingly, he hoped. Quatre hadn't really been surprised those smarmy mercenaries had come prepared to take him down hard this time. In point of fact, he was surprised it had taken them so long to find him. He almost wished that sand-louse, Alex, had darted him earlier. He never would been able to shift-shape, let alone cause any damage. He had been wrong to mislead them into believing he was human, and he was surely sorry for getting the green-eyed prince involved in this whole sordid mess. Quatre was vitally aware He could have killed them both; and if not for the drug, he just might have. It was sheer dumb luck that neither Duo nor the Prince had been seriously harmed by their brief brush with Zero.

"My'fault, am bad." He sniffed, and bit his bottom lip, cerulean eyes shining with tears.

Duo ruffled the blonde's hair playfully. "Poor kitty, s'all'right. We don't mind lending a hand. Do we, Tro-man?"

Eyes, deep as the verdant forest and of similar hue, blinked slowly. The second prince wasn't quite sure what to make of his new nickname or the braided wonder that had just bestowed it upon him. The urchin was entirely unique and unpredictable, so vibrant, boisterous and alive. Everything he wasn't…but longed to be.

"Mhhhnm." Quatre mumbled sleepily, nuzzling his shoulder again.

"Nah, nah, Kitt-Kat," Duo frowned. "Try to stay awake. If you let the drug win, you might never wake up. We don't want that, now, do we?"

"Al'wuz woke up all n'other'times," the blonde sniffed diffidently.

"Other times?" the braided boy mused aloud. "You get drugged a lot, kitten? Is that why you were a bit off when we first met?"

"Umhum." The boy nodded in the affirmative but still did not raise his head from Trowa's shoulder. "Zero's um…bad…dange'orous."

"Zero: Is that what you call the fuzzier-you? I seem to remember that is what Mr. Nasty called you. _He_ is what I'd call bad. You aren't so scary. In fact, you were a great help dispatching those ruffians. I'd say it is actually kinda neat. Is the shift a lunar thing or just something you do?"

"Am'empathetic. I turn when riled." The blonde tried to force his thoughts into some semblance of order to explain. "Papa says the medicine helps control it. We came to see the king in hope of something more…permanent, but he won't see us. "

Quatre knew his 'pathetic' condition wasn't a curse like those the Yue princes had to deal with. It was a naturally occurring characteristic that occasionally cropped up along his mother's bloodline. If she had lived long enough to train him, the ability might have been a gift…but as it was, he'd come to fear it and never thought about Zero with anything less than dread.

"I think you mean 'empathetic,' Cat," Duo corrected.

Trowa quirked an eyebrow, unbelieving that a simple urchin knew such a large word, let alone understood the complex concept it described.

Duo smirked at the silent prince, smug that he could prove that just because he had no formal education, he was no dullard. There was bitterness to his smile, though, and his eyes darkened to stormy violet. To an orphan, images of family were notably idyllic, not to mention sacrosanct. How and why would Quatre's own father force drugs upon him?! Was he responsible for sending those beastly men after him too? The thought sickened him, but he wouldn't press for answers until the little blonde was in a less precarious frame of mind. Till then there was plenty of other things he could find to talk about.

"Empathic; sensitive, meaning Quatre here has a great big heart and more than just his own emotions to deal with. He gets tangled up in what other people feel too. When it gets to be too much, he loses control and gets 'kittyfied.' Am I right?" the urchin declared with mock superiority. Silently he thanked Solo, wherever he was, for what little he knew about such things.

"Kittyfied." Quatre's eyes shone bright and he couldn't keep from giggling. Soon he fell into fits of hissing laughter and the occasional snort. His face blushed bright-red at the undignified sounds. He untangled his arms from his supporters in attempt to cover his face with his hands. As a result, he listed sideways and had to lean against the wall of a building till he had recovered himself. In the end, he was left somewhat light-headed and didn't object when Duo casually scooped him up in his arms like a big baby.

The prince was distracted. The braided urchin's words reverberated in his mind. 'Emotionally sensitive' he had said, and the full import of the declaration nearly brought tears to Trowa's eyes. What Quatre was going through was the exact opposite of his brother's curse.

It was no wonder the boy's father thought King Jae might be able to help. It was also no surprise that the aging wizard had no inclination to do anything of the kind. When it came to matters related to the curse, both boys had learned early on that they were entirely on their own.

The Night Prince sighed.

He couldn't leave these two to their own devices. It seemed something more was going on than met the eye, and the odd pair some how played a part in whatever it was. Heero told him to always trust his instincts, and he tried to do so. If he was entirely honest with himself, there was another reason he didn't want to leave the unusual pair. He didn't want to be forgotten. The longer he stayed with them, the greater the chance that they would learn to see past the shadows and really _see_ him. Even so, he knew he was already long overdue at the palace.

Perhaps he should try to get them to follow him home. Trowa was well acquainted with Zechs lectures on magical control. The weapons master's could help Quatre learn to shield his mind from thoughts not his own, and Trace might be able to do more than that. From what little he'd witnessed of Duo's ability, a good foundation of the basics could be invaluable for both boys in gaining mastery of their gifts. Keeping them around the castle for the time being would be prudent, not to mention it would provide him with the opportunity to keep a surreptitious eye on them.

With a sly smile, Trowa slid the flute from his belt and put it to his lips. He hadn't had the time to purposely compose anything and he'd even missed heralding the dawn, but he could still send crystal notes to celebrate the day.


	13. Unraveling

Part Thirteen--Unraveling

"Are you hungry?" The dragon lord asked as he helped himself to the tray of biscuits and tea that a dark haired maid set on a table in the study.

Trace was situated in a seat in the bay window overlooking the courtyard, while Heero lounged stiffly on a couch in the corner.

"Zechs and I take tea with the Second Prince on occasion to be companionable. But we don't really get hungry. The only thing we crave is sunlight." Trace touched the collar around his neck meaningfully, "It helps sustain and replenish our magic."

"I didn't know that." Heero frowned. Zechs spent most of his time working in the courtyard or the practice grounds just beyond. But Trace didn't have that luxury. In fact, he rarely went outside at all. Now that he thought about it the ginger-haired Jewel was usually backed up against a window while giving his lessons but he'd never thought anything about it. "Why did you never tell us?"

"There was no need, my Prince." He shrugged offhandedly "We don't require much I assure you. I have only rarely felt the want…and that only after prolonged periods in the treasury. Since we have had a hand in your training we have plenty of opportunities. Our lot is not so bad."

"Still, do not keep such things from us. Jae will not always be king. And then you will become our responsibility." Heero warned.

"I'm sorry." Trace amended but there was nothing truly contrite in his tone. Heero was oblivious, WuFei was not. It implied the Jewel was in fact eager for the old king's passing and all it entailed.

The dragon lord decided it was time to get down to business. "Heero seemed to think you know what happened to my people. You understand my native tongue. I have heard much rumor and speculation these past months. I need to know the truth."

"Truth is somewhat subjective, I have found." Trace mused cryptically and there was a hint of pain in his voice. "In order to understand you need to know more about Zechs and myself and how we came to be as we are. Are you willing?"

WuFei's gaze lingered long on the ginger haired young man, finally he declared, "Explain."

The three boys had adjourned to the study in effort to be more comfortable but the first Jewel found it difficult to relax. He brought one foot up on the window-seat and laced his fingers over his raised knee but his broad shoulders remained stiff and squared.

Sometimes getting the first Jewel to speak about certain topics was an arduous task. It wasn't his fault certainly. The king blanked large sections of his memory…others were warded with strong magic to prevent him from disclosing certain bits of information. But the king's power was weakening. Trace had worked past the mental blocks before. Heero had even helped him do so, in the course of his lessons. But it was never easy.

Trace took a deep, measured, breath and held it for a few heartbeats before exhaling purposefully. "Will you begin my Prince, share what you know…what we have spoken of in the past, then I will try to go on from there."

"Stone does not age at the same rate flesh does." the prince told WuFei. "Both jewels are elder than they appear and most would consider their skills and knowledge impressive in their own right. That is why the king ordered them to train us. Even so Trace and Zechs are limited by their condition, as my brother and I are by the curse. As you can imagine the change is more than merely physical. The life they had before becoming Jewels is lost to them and with it a large portion of the memories pertaining to that time. Having them attempt to retrieve what has been lost is both difficult and painful for them. They are living puzzles, unraveling them is but one aspect of our princely training." Heero explained in a measured tone.

"We have learned the Jewels were once princes. They became subjects of Yue when they were defeated in battle and their territory was annexed to our own. Because of the strength of their magic and the influence they held in their land Jae judged them too dangerous to be left to their own devices yet too useful to destroy. So he bound them.

"Through the course of my lessons we have been able to identify certain areas, timeframes and events that are problematic for them to delve into and have been able to deduce a little more about what they once were. The name of your clan is not unfamiliar to us and as you have noted, Seres is one of many languages Trace is fluent in. That is why I suspect he possesses the knowledge you are seeking. Occasionally there is a key, a word or bit of information that will free up the memories."

"Is Zechs the Peacecraft Prince?" WuFei asked.

Trace winced visibly; closing his eyes, he pinched the bridge of his nose with his thumb and forefinger. "Was, _was_, there is no IS for us." He whispered hoarsely.

"I'm sorry." The dark eyed lad amended. "I was in Sancier province and saw a portrait of the former ruling family. They mentioned he had been lost along with the kingdom. I assumed he had died."

"Is this living?" Trace rubbed his chest meaningfully.

"Is it?" WuFei challenged right back unflinchingly. "The magic of my people should make us live long beyond the natural span. Some of my mentors were several centuries old. Where are they now? Am I so different than you?

"Perhaps not," Trace smiled weakly, he liked this boy, liked his fire. "We, neither of us can ever be what we were…but that is not to say what we have is inconsequential."

"Am I the last?" The dragon lord asked simply.

"Yes, I expect so" The Jewel answered quietly. "What happened was a tragedy." He couldn't meet the boy's eyes.

"Trace, we need to know." Heero intoned emotionlessly.

The Prince's command helped and slowly the blurred memories and impressions his mind shied away from swam into focus. The jewel closed his eyes to better concentrate past the pain. His words came slow but were crafted with the skill of an orator, "There was a kingdom to the north nestled between two mountain peeks. Because of the rocky landscape there was little arable land and the people clung to what they could. Unfortunately much of it was also flood plain.

"Every spring when the snow melted many died because there was no telling what path the water would take. The king devised a plan to cut a deep trench to direct the water away from the settlements and create a river to shunt the excess away from the settled land. He sent soldiers and surveyors further along the proposed rivers path to warn those who lived beyond the boarders of the kingdom so they could make what arrangements they needed to."

He took a deep breath. Leaning forward he hugged both his knees to his chest. "The survey team was attacked. They returned to the king and requested more troops as protection. Again they met armed resistance. The third time the King sent an even bigger force. A young noble who had studied the land to the south decided he ought to go along as ambassador. H-he was inexperienced and as I mentioned, extremely young.

"No one took m-Him seriously. Not the military leaders, not the elders of the clan who sought to defend themselves from the encroaching army…not the survey team who ordered the dam breached and sent the merciless tears of the mountain cascading directly into the dragon's breeding grounds. The full force of the flood destroyed everything and completely subsumed the villages. By the time the river was redirected, it was already too late." The words died on his lips and when he lifted his head his cheeks glistened with dampness. There was no more he could say.

WuFei's heart was in his throat and he found it incredibly difficult to breathe. Tears sparkled in his own dark eyes, but they did not fall. He knew enough of his people to deduce how they would have reacted. "The elders feared the soldier's were there to enslave. It wouldn't be the first time enemies came with that motive in mind. Other times they pretended to want trade and spread disease instead. They feared our power.

"The warriors would have fought the invaders tooth and nail, to the last man if they had too. If the dragons were suddenly removed from the battle and the homes they were fighting for were no more…The Elders would have seen to the surviving women and children first then fell on their own blades."

Trace nodded solemnly and in a whisper, confirmed, the boy's worst fears, "Suicide."

Suddenly the boy rocketed to his feet hands clenched in fists his face white with rage. "THOSE STUBBORN, CLOSED-MINDED, SELFISH, EGOTISTICAL, FOOLS! THEY FORFITTED THEIR LIVES FOR NOTHING…OVER A MISUNDERSTANDING!!" This declaration was followed by a supremely impressive string of expletives in his native tongue that left Trace blushing.

Moments later there was a sound of breaking glass as the window behind the jewel's back gave way before the impressive momentum of a very perturbed firedrake. Nataku sat on the rug among shards of glass. Her wings were furled and she hissed and snapped menacingly at whatever, whoever was threatening her partner.

All pretence of composure lost Trace gaped unabashedly at the creature who decided to make her presence known so dramatically. The last of the Long firedrakes, he realized. The scales were so delicate; a green body with a red breast…accents of yellow and white on her snout and undersides of her leathery wings "A female." He whispered in awe. "Draconic society is matriarchal. Only the head of the clan would be permitted to join with a female drake. Chang is one of the oldest dynastic names of the silk lands. They only send one youth in a generation to foster with the clans."

WuFei shook his head yes and moved to calm the fractious lizard. "The blood of the ancient emperors flows in my veins but there has been no dragon lord born to them for many generations. When they sent me to foster with my mother's people they did not expect I would be chosen. But ShenLong Nataku judged me worthy." He explained softly, his tone almost crooning to the beast. "The elders were not happy with this turn of events. They did not see my training with Nataku as being as important as my duties as heir. They did not like that her influence on me would always be stronger than theirs.

They sent us to the temple in hopes we would get out priorities straightened. They were supposed to act in the peoples best interest during my absence…I know they did not always do so. But this…they were supposed to protect them. They had no right to make such a decision." He shook his head sadly.

"As a scholar I made it my business to study the nations bordering my own. My tutors told me studying the customs and traditions of barbarians was a waste of my time. I ignored them. I'd like to think that, were I there, I would have at least listened to an emissary from Romfell and perhaps been able to avert disaster. I hate to admit it but, But I doubt it would have made any difference. I may have been the Chang of Chang but I was too young to have a say in council. If I had been there, I doubt they would have listened to my voice any more than they did yours. As you said it was a tragedy, a stain on your people's honor…and the end of mine. There is no justice in it."

Nataku still glared at the humans that had upset her partner and now made him sad but her green eyes lost some of their fervor under WuFei's persistent caressing. She sniffed and blew a small puff of steam against his chest.

The Dragon Lord's obsidian eyes were slightly unfocused, a rather telling sign that he was in telepathic communication with his beast. The expression on his face seemed to indicate he was the unwitting recipient of a rather scathing lecture about rousing sleeping dragons for no good reason. Then he must have conveyed the substance of the conversation they had been having, to her.

She keened piteously and seemed to wrap her sinuous body around his own, initially for comfort first, then with the intention of bonding with him. Crawling beneath the hem of his blouse and worming her way up onto his back till her head peeked through the neck hole and peered over his shoulder.

WuFei deftly unfastened several of the toggle clasps so the garments neck hole was wide enough for the wings to emerge and settle more comfortably across his back. Her serpentine neck draped across his own, and her head settled on his opposite shoulder. "This is the easiest way to calm her." he explained. "I'm sorry about the window. We'll have to find a way to pay for it. Perhaps we can work it off. I am a passable scribe and Nataku isn't above carrying messages. And of course we are more formable, magically speaking, when we are together.

Heero was about to tell the Dragon Lord that he wouldn't consider taking the youth as a servant on behalf of a broken window. It could be easily replaced; he should think no more about it. But Trace motioned for his silence, and the prince obeyed.

The Jewel understood the importance of pride…and honor. WuFei's people were gone, he was all alone. The young man was likely undecided as to whether to follow his people's example or not. All that was necessary was something small to tip the balance. He needed a place to belong, a reason to feel useful. In short, after loosing everything he needed a reason to live. That was something the Kings Jewel understood. Trace knew what it was to have one's life hinge on one's debt to another. "I am sure an arrangement can be made." he bowed politely.

The Jewel had his own reasons to feel indebted to the Dragon Lord. Certain things the youth had said struck a chord within him. The memories, so difficult in coming, were more precious to him than all the baubles in the king's treasury, and one word in particular was priceless. Romfell. That had been his kingdom, once. WuFei recognized it just from his somewhat vague description.

Now if only he could unlock the memories that went along with the name he might recall just how he came to be Jae's possession in the first place, and why the name Peacecraft caused him so much pain. It represented…what? Another stain on my honor? 'WuFei said he was lost in battle. We suspected as much...but why? He came looking for me," the thought was brief as summer lightning and just as shocking. 'I-It is my fault he is here! I _took_ him, helped _break_ him.' Trace's eyes widened in surprise "Miri, no!" he gasped out loud and impenetrable darkness suddenly closed around his mind.


	14. Bring in the Strays

Part Fourteen—Bring in the Strays

Part Fourteen—Bring in the Strays

Zechs left his perch on the wall and walked a short distance into the town drawn by the luminous beacon of magic marking the location of the Second Prince and his companions. The colors were so close they nearly bled into one another. The blonde Jewel had to forcibly disengage his mage-sight as he got nearer since the metal collar he wore would not permit him the fine tuning he required to prevent the intensity from causing him pain. But by then he glimpsed the three figures turning the corner onto the main thoroughfare beyond the market district. He broke into a light jog and cut them off before the next intersection.

He easily recognized the Second Prince his two companions seemed to be urchins. A slim brunet was carrying a sleepy-eyed blonde pig-a-back style. "There you are." Zechs called with a tired sigh, though his short sprint hardly winded him.

"If you're looking to cause trouble for us, I'd advise against it." the elder of the two urchins announced. "We've already dealt with one gang of bruisers and have been running the city guard ragged all morning."

The Jewel frowned. "I'm not looking to harm any of you. In fact I want to help. You do know WHY the guards are looking for you don't you?"

"One gang of thugs out of commission…I mentioned that didn't I. DUH!"

"Actually, no." The blonde smirked.

"I didn't mention it? I thought I did. I must be getting senile in my old age," The teen quipped.

"I meant, that at least some of the guard hunting you, aren't city guard, and they don't particularly care what you did to any thugs. They are looking for him." Zechs indicated the green eyed boy with an imperious wave of his hand. "—He was expected home some hours ago and has caused quite a bit of concern in those that care about him. How about we go set their minds at ease then we can hear all about your nightly adventure? I'll even help even help carry your friend. I'm a bit larger and you are obviously tired."

"You aren't telling me why I should trust you Blondie. I don't know you…you don't know us…perhaps we should best leave it that way." The urchin said toying with a rope of some kind….no it was a braid. An exceedingly long chestnut braid. Zechs realized the lad's hair must be nearly as long as his own. That was a rarity in this day and age, especially among males.

Zechs smiled. "Trowa knows me quite well, and if you come with us back to the palace I'll…let you have this." He removed the silver brush from his pouch and held it so the gems flashed in the sunlight.

Amethyst eyes grew unbelievably round and it was clear the boy was reluctant to remove his gaze from the shiny bauble. But he didn't want to seem too eager when he asked, "For true?" And there was disbelief in his voice.

The Second Prince touched the boy's arm and nodded his assurance.

"You just want to talk to us…you aren't going to try to separate us…or make us do anything we don't want to do?" the urchin studied the tall Jewel intently as he asked for clarification.

"I Merquise Zechs pledge it—in my prince's place," he affirmed knowing Trowa couldn't voice such a thing. The Jewel rarely had occasion to use his court title. Technically, the king bestowed the rank of Marquise on both Trace and himself. Any lesser noble would not have been permitted to tutor the princes. It was an empty title however as most members of the court knew what they were. Being a Jewel was akin to being a slave, and that pretty much negated any authority they might have had. But these boys didn't know that, and he was confident the Second Prince would see the promise upheld.

"I suppose that is all right then." The boy grinned. "I'm Duo, buy-the-buy, I run n hide but I nev'r lie. You know the silent guy, he's rather shy… and this, this is pretty Kitty-Catra…you got a catch-phase Cat?" The braided boy jostled a bit to rouse the little blonde.

"Hmmm" Bright blue-green eyes peered sleepily over Duo's shoulder. "I smiles to hide the fangs." He mumbled softly

"Awww kitten, you are too serious. Life gives you plenty to smile about. You'll see when you're awake more.—He got hit by a dart and its still in his system." The boy explained.

Zechs' eyes widened and he immediately turned to Trowa, "One of yours?" he asked immediately concerned. "We need to get him to Tre…Trace right away. He can neutralize the poison."

"What do you mean 'One of his?'" Duo's eyes narrowed at Trowa and he frowned. "Do you make a point of darting innocent people?"

Trowa sighed removing one of his darts from the leather cuff laced to his wrist and produced the spent dart they had removed from Quatre's thigh for comparison. They were obviously different.

"Mercenary maybe?" the Jewel asked, examining both projectiles over the boy's shoulder, "Noin might recognize the type."

Duo was more interested in the other sample. "W-wait, wait…I recognize T-that. Phantom?" He faltered.

Trowa's deep green eyes were full of words he longed to say but was unable. Instead he managed just one. Shaking his head in the emphatic negative he whispered said "miss" and placed one finger at the exact place his dart had lodged in the other boy's braid.

"You don't miss." Duo confirmed. "You didn't mean me any harm and you don't attack innocents if you can help it."

The Second Prince sighed with relief and nodded. Maybe, just maybe, the other boy _was_ beginning to _see_ him, unclouded by shadows of the curse.

Zechs confirmed the assessment. "I'm the palace weapons master and I can vouch that I've never seen him miss. This phantom business is just rumor. When he's working it is at the king's command."

"Well, Deklin Barlett was a waste of space…I can't say you taking him out wasn't to my advantage, even if I did get the blame for it. His gang still wants me…and not in a good way."

Trowa looked sorrowful and Zechs spoke for him. "If you need protection or just a safe place to stay, you are welcome at the palace. In any case I expect your friends here have had quite enough running and hiding. Your little Cat here looks to be well on his way to a catnap unless I miss my guess."

Truly, Quatre was nuzzling the back of Duo's neck as he tried to get comfortable.

"Allow me." Zechs offered with a slight bow, calling up a tendril of magic he twined it securely around the sleeping blonde. It took little effort to shift the dead weight from the other urchin's back. A gentle nudge disentangled the boy's arms from Duo's neck and Zech's transferred the youth, now significantly lighter, to his own arms.

"Hey!" Duo objected mildly.

"Not going to steal him, I'm only trying to help," Zech confirmed though he knew the 'casual' use of power was a warning that he would have his way in the matter.

"You could have done this too you know." He told Trowa in playful rebuke, "You are too restrained about using your magic on people just because you can't ask for permission. Sometimes you just need to do it and let them figure out your motives afterwards. Instead you are polite and end up worrying us all half to death."

The Prince mimed an expansive yawn; a wordless excuse for forgetting his lessons.

The Jewel chuckled lightly and matching his long strides quickly brought them to the palace.

Zechs paused only once on the way to confront a violet eyed guard with short dark hair and an obvious look of surprise on her face. "Don't worry Noin. I've got everything well in hand. You and your men are free to return to your regular duties. There seems to be a band of mercenaries causing trouble." He handed her the dart. "See if you can find out who they are and make them move on."

"Do mind the pickpockets" she smirked and nodded her chin at the chestnut haired urchin, who had, at some point liberated the brush from his belt pouch and was busy trying to tame his own substantial tresses with it.

"It was a gift." Zechs told her, even if the boy had preempted the actual giving.

"Bribe," Duo corrected working on a rather large snarl as he attempted to unbraid the mass. "Generally I don't keep my hair down. It is too much effort to stay neat.

"Just cut it all off why don't you. Then it won't be a bother." Noin laughed flipping her short cropped hair with a playful toss of her head.

"Heaven forbid!" Zechs placed a hand to his chest and did his best to look horrified.

Trowa rolled his eyes and made shooing motions to the others.

There was no denying the Second Prince had not meant to stay out this long. Heero wasn't really capable of worry of course. Trowa knew the curse prevented his brother from actually experiencing the emotion that came with "missing" someone. But he would be irritable, that much was certain. The First Prince did not like the schedule disrupted and things could not get back to normal till his brother had checked in. Sending Zechs, Noin and the guards after him was proof that Heero believed Trowa was important; the reaction might be reasoned and methodical rather than heart-felt but it was proof of his intention to care.

The realization brought a brief flair of warmth to the Night Prince's heart. Still he could not help but wonder what it might feel like to be genuinely cared for…the way Duo and Quatre cared for each other. Not because it was a brother's duty or because it was the jewels obligation. Not because of his position but for himself, Trowa. Of course, the curse fairly prevented any from truly learning who 'Trowa' was…maybe he didn't even know himself. Maybe there wasn't anything worth knowing…just shadows, best left forgotten.


	15. The Present Past

Part Fifteen—The Present Past

"Millard!" someone yelled ecstatically waving their arms and rushing the party at the gate. "It is you. It IS! You are certainly looking well. If it were possible, I'd say you haven't aged a day since you left home. I hope you realize how much you hurt mother and father when you left. You know how they felt about war. Then when you didn't come home…When Dorothy told me she saw you this morning I could hardly believe it! After all this time! I mean, I heard…I thought…Everyone believed you were dead! Une said Doro nearly stepped off the bridge she was so surprised!" The young girl gushed, "What are the chances that we would all be here, now, the stars must be aligned or something." she shook her head hard enough that her honey colored curls bobbed. "Brother, why won't you put that grubby urchin down and greet me properly?

Zechs blinked uncomprehendingly his arms tightening around Quatre's body enough to wake the boy to bleary-eyed consciousness. The young blonde regarded the girl for a few heartbeats then said, "Go 'way Relena, you are being too loud."

"Quatre Rabarba Winner what ARE you doing dressed like that?!" the girl exclaimed. "I took you to be some sort of street mongrel."

"TOO loud!" Quatre declared emphatically. "Trowa, Duo, guards, somebody make her go away. I hurt!" then he pouted into Zechs arm.

The Second Prince frowned taking the girl by the shoulder and compelled her to the far side of the drawbridge. Once there he shoved her into the receptive arms of another female. This one had long blonde hair and prominently forked brows. A third with brown hair restrained in buns on each side of her head was closing in on them fast demanding what was going on. Trowa used his magic to hold the three in place so he could _run_ back to the others.

Shadows flitted about the drawbridge and swirled about the three females holding them in place but there was nothing he could do to quiet their shouts...unless he wanted to dart them. But Duo HAD been right, he didn't go about darting innocent people…even if they DID annoy him. Besides after a rather disastrous incident involving a birthday invitation, Heero saw that the palace guard was trained to guard against such harridans. Now, regardless of _who_ the women were, or said they were, those three were not about to be permitted within the royal residence. So unless the king chose to intervene, (highly unlikely) the rest of them were safe.

"Z-man you don't look so good." Duo was the first to state the obvious grabbing the Jewel's arm and urging him farther from the drawbridge. His normally alabaster skin was absolutely ashen. His cornflower eyes, dull, his breathing shallow but he went where he was led.

"Help me down." Quatre announced once there was a strong metal gate between them and the ones who somehow triggered what ever was going on. He offered one hand to Duo and one to Trowa. His voice was strong and he didn't seem the least bit dazed.

"You were _lying_ Quatre!" Duo gasped surprised by the sudden transformation. "It is not good to lie."

"Not lying exactly…I am feeling pretty terrible, like I'm in a fog. But I _can_ function when I have too. That dart was meant to take me out. It took a bit of effort to get my head together. I forced myself to shake it off when we met up with this one." He nodded toward Zechs, "It is harder for me to judge if someone is trustworthy when I can barely feel them. I needed to be sure, so I might have exaggerated the effects a teensey bit--I AM sure now though, that scene at the drawbridge removed all doubt."

Then Quatre turned his attention to Trowa, "You can't know how grateful I am that you made Relina go away. I was telling the truth when I said it hurt. For what ever reason, your friend is in shock, near catatonic in fact. He needs help, is there somewhere we can take him? Away from people, would be preferable."

The Second Prince frowned, If Zechs was as bad off as Quatre said, the only place he could think to take the Jewel was back to his niche. Admittedly, Trowa had some reservations about taking Quatre and Duo to the royal treasury, but he couldn't exactly tell them to wait in the hall and making them stay, as he had done to the girls, seemed somehow wrong. So, as Zechs recently reminded, now was the time to act first and let the others figure it out later.

Trowa couldn't help but feel relieved that the little blonde hadn't been as affected by the drug as it seemed. He needed both boys' help in guiding the dazed Jewel deeper into the palace. Quatre still looked pale and his steps were less than confident the princehoped the exertion wasn't making things worse for the boy. Duo's thoughts must have been mirroring his own becausehe asked, "You sure you are alright there Kitt-katt? You looked like you were ready to cry when that banshee woman cornered you."

"My reaction was largely play-acting,which is different from telling lies. I am a trained diplomat andit was importantto draw her attention away from Zechs. When she confronted him He froze up. The raw emotion bleeding off of him was like a tornado threatening to draw me up into the chaos—it isn't pleasant. I can't imagine what I'd be feeling if not for the drug." The little blonde shook his head and crossed his arms over his chest. "In case you couldn't guess, I have had run-in's with the Vice-Foreign Minister's daughter before. And I tell you, she is mighty lucky I AM still feeling the effects of that dart. If not, I might have ended up using her as a scratching post--Street mongrel indeed!" Quatre scoffed. Then the foursome was descending the narrow stair that led to the treasury.

Trowa awkwardly stripped off the jewel's shirt revealing the large crystalline patch on his breast. Then, briefly man-handled Zechs onto the pedestal Trace usually occupied and wordlessly shaped the magic necessary to send the Jewel onto his dormant phase. "R-rest." He managed to gasp out before the curse stole his words away leaving him lightheaded and gasping for breath. The gem beneath his palm cooled and faded from blood-ruby to lapis. When he stepped away what had been living flesh was a marble statue, exquisite in relief.

Quatre was standing just behind him wide-eyed rubbing his chest trying to reconcile the hollow feeling where the mind-numbing pain had so recently been. It was unlike anything he ever experienced. "W-what j-just happened?" the boy wanted to know. Trowa opened his mouth; then closed it again with a disgusted grunt. He grabbed the little blonde by the wrist gently drawing him out of the Jewel's niche and back into the treasury. Then he moved to collect Duo, who had been unable to withstand the temptation to examine, fondle and otherwise explore the baskets, shelves and piles of 'loot' the room offered.

The urchin was busy inspecting an ornate metal mask when the other two caught him. Quatre frowned at him. Duo looked guilty and replaced it on its shelf then quickly divested himself of an oversized crown, silk stole, several strands of pearls and ten of the largest, gaudiest, rings you could possibly imagine.

"I wasn't stealing them." the boy insisted. Perhaps Quatre's reaction to being thought of as a street-mongrel hit a bit close to home. The Silent Prince tried to give the boy a slight smile as he motioned for him to move toward the stairs, but his concern for Zechs made it a half-hearted effort.

"I-I guess you'll be wanting this back too." Duo took the gem-encrusted brush from his warn leather pouch and made to set it on a shelf piled haphazardly with other treasures.

Trowa stayed his hand and pressed the brush back into Duo's chest. The meaning was clear 'It's yours.'

Duo absolutely beamed clutching the brush as if it were the most valuable thing in the world, and to him, it likely was. He didn't even complain when the Second Prince practically dragged him down the hall alongside Quatre.

0-0-0-0-0-0

Heero never expected Trace to just faint like that. It was a very…_human _thing to do, so of course the cursed prince didn't handle it well. He slapped the Jewel across the face and left a rather well defined mark on his cheek. Seeing no immediate results he was preparing to backhand him to make the other side match when WuFei stopped him. "Maybe he needs sunlight?" the Dragon-lord hazarded to guess.

"Hn," Heero grunted and half-carried, half-dragged the Jewel through the broken window and out onto the balcony.

WuFei joined them as there was more than enough room, though he chose to perch on the stone balustrade letting his/Nataku's wings and tail dangle over the side. "I know you can conjure water. Perhaps a drink might help." he suggested.

Heero scowled, Trace was practically draped across his lap and he didn't particularly like being told what to do. Still he knew enough to realize when he was out of his depth and so he obeyed drawing a small globule of water out of the air and making it burst on the back of the Jewel's tongue. The man swollowed reflexively.

Whether it was the fresh air, sunlight or water… Trace sputtered back to consciousness with some disorientation. "What, where am I?" he asked.

"Balcony." Heero volunteered.

"Hmph. Its nice out here." The Jewel reflected. "Your idea?" he asked WuFei.

The Dragon Lord felt his cheeks redden but was at a loss as to why.

"What happened?" Heero asked in his usual monotone.

"Must have been a mental block, an unusually strong one. I don't know what set it off. trying to figure it out will only cause more pain. All I can say is I must have brushed up against something Jae doesn't want me to know, and was duly punished for it." Trace explained touching the collar at his neck. "

"Stupid," was the First Prince's succinct summation.

"Heero, this isn't right." WuFei bit his lip in concentration. "It is one thing to enslave someone's body…another to bind his magic. Why must the king entrap his mind as well? Even if Trace was a defeated foe, this is too much. How long has he been like this? Hasn't he paid enough? As a royal, responsible for his life you cannot accept this. It is unjust and quite simply, wrong!" There was no denying the passion with which the dark haired lad argued his case.

"Wrong?" Heero tasted the word. Could Jae BE wrong? The thought never occurred to him before. He mulled over the situation in his mind recalling all the lessons the ginger haired Jewel had taught him over the years. All the times he was patient when Heero was less than understanding. All the times Trace tirelessly reiterated points of personal conduct broken down in to the smallest possible concepts so even he could begin to understand. All the practice conversations they had had so he wouldn't be an embarrassment to his brother when in public. It all pointed to the fact that the man was nothing if not completely loyal, not to mention honorable to a fault.

With a curt nod Heero stated, "The logic is flawed." and with that, he stretched out his hand brushing his fingertips across the surface of the seamless collar, encircling the Jewel's throat. The metal rippled and writhed when it came in contact with the prince's magic. The power it had been imbued with, upon its creation, fought to maintain its strength and purpose but in the end it was overwhelmed and obediently melted into a snake like coil then shaped itself around the prince's wrist. "Just so," Heero nodded.

Trace was stunned. He couldn't rightly remember when he had been free of the collar that leached his power away. His hand flew to his throat as if not believing the hated thing was truly gone. "I-I, thank you my prince." He whispered softly. "I will continue to serve you as I live."

"I knew you would." Heero shrugged offhandedly.


	16. Introductions all Around

Part Sixteen—Introductions All Around

Trowa burst into the study, dragging Duo and Quatre each by the wrist. Green eyes cast about the room widening in surprise when he took in the shattered window and the three figures reclining on the balcony outside. Surprise turned to open astonishment when he saw his brother do away with the jewel's collar.

He was still registering the ramifications of that when the door behind them opened once more to admit a rather matronly woman decked out in the uniform of the castle staff. "My Prince," she curtsied politely. "I had heard you were late returning…I came to see if you would like to have a brunch tray brought. It is rather late and I expect you are hungry. We will be sure there is enough for your companions as well. She gave Duo and Quatre an appraising look. Not judgmental mind you, but as if, by her standards, they could both use some fattening up.

The young blonde blushed, he had always been slight, not to mention small for his age. Duo however grinned unabashedly. Anyone who was willing to feed him was 'plenty fine' in his book. "I'm Duo Maxwell." He held out his hand for her to shake.

"It is nice to meat you, M'lord Maxwell. My name is Helen. I am part of the cook-staff here. Our family has served the palace for generations. My girl Hildi is even in charge of the prince's chambers." She smiled proudly. Then she surveyed the room and her shoulders slumped.

"What is wrong mam?" Quatre asked concern in his quiet voice.

"My brother, Howard, is in charge of maintenance." Helen explained. "He will want to get a look at the damage to that window, and it will take ages to get the glass up. Do you think you could manage to convince the First Prince to take this party below to the practice grounds? I could have the food brought there easily enough.

"Of course, food anywhere is good…Food out of doors is an excuse for a parrr-ty!" Duo announced eyes shining with excitement. "Right Tro-man?"

Trowa, of course, didn't respond. Instead, he was looking thoughtful. He wanted to charge-in and demand what had happened to make his brother remove Trace's collar. But not only did the curse make that impossible, He knew the First Prince did not take kindly when others questioned his decisions. Regardless of the king's reaction Trowa would support his brother, as he had always done. But at present his nerves were on edge and he felt the beginnings of a headache. That usually meant he was thinking too much. He shifted uncomfortably, glass shards crunching beneath his booted feet.

The cook was correct, this room _was_ in a sorry state with glass scattered everywhere; in the carpet, on the furniture, even glistening amongst the cushions. That, at least, was a problem he _could_ do something about. He held out his arms, crossed at the wrists, palms facing outward. Then he closed his eyes blanketing the room with a thin sheet of power. Shadows gathered, summoned by his working, and with a quick movement, pulling his arms back to uncross and fisting his hands he magically gathered all the broken glass together into a neat pile.

"Thank you, Night Prince." Helen smiled. "I know Hildi will be mighty grateful for the help. After the mess your brother made in the south hall yesterday, well…Thank you." She faltered, clearly uncomfortable saying anything that might be construed as negative about the First Prince, especially since he couldn't help being a bit thoughtless at times on account of his curse. "I'll have a fine meal ready in no time." she recovered, "Plenty for seven healthy lads." Then, with a hasty bow, she bustled from the room.

o-o-o-o---o-o-o-o

Quatre had been hoping for an explanation of exactly what had taken place in the treasury but on reflection he realized he had a pretty good idea already. There had been something familiar about Zechs from the beginning and considering Relina's reaction he could not doubt the young man did have the Peacecraft looks. But everyone knew that Relena's elder brother had died more than five years ago. And even if he had somehow lived, Milliardo would be in his early twenties now and Zechs couldn't be more than sixteen. In the halls of influence and power, the last Prince of Sanc was rarely spoken of. But Quatre had seen family portraits of him. There was no denying he had been a handsome youth. It was not impossible that statues had been made of him. And one must ever be mindful that even the impossible was possible if one had the magical acumen to see it happen.

The young blonde was drawn from his musings at the Night Prince's display of magic. He felt it happening. The air around them seemed alive producing a slight tingling similar to that which one feels before a lightning storm. He could see the way shadows seemed to ripple about the tall youth while he concentrated--eyes closed.

Quatre held his breath waiting to see what his new friend would do with the magic he had called. And when he saw, the glass shards summoned from wherever they had lain, his already high estimate of the other boy grew loftier still. But, he wasn't the only one who felt what the prince had done.

The three on the balcony turned their attention back into the room immediately. "Trowa!" the youngest of them announced gruffly stepping over the broken window-frame to reenter the room.

The Silent Prince raised both hands in surrender and perhaps…apology? Quatre guessed. Trowa turned in a slow circle the other boy's cobalt-blue glare raked him head to foot as if he needed to confirm the Prince was truly unharmed. It was a short leap of logic to guess this must be Heero, the reclusive First Prince of Yuy.

The boy's face was impassive as he grabbed the Night Prince's forearm and pulled it tight to his chest in a rough semblance of an embrace. Then cuffed the other boy on the shoulder "Don't be late again." he growled and released him as if the brief contact was already forgotten. Turning to examine the two strangers he asked, "What is this?"

"It is our fault Trowa was late." The blonde volunteered. "Mine mostly." He approached the dower noble with his most diplomatic expression, hoping the heir would forgive him his borrowed clothing and slightly rumpled appearance. "My companion here was giving me a tour of your city and we were beset upon by…mercenaries. Prince Trowa stepped in to defend us and helped dispatch them. I fear we detained him from making his return in a timely manor."

"Who are you?" The cold eyed youth demanded.

"I am Quatre Raberba Winner, Prince of Wei." He bowed.

"Prince!?" Duo exclaimed, voice cracking in surprise. Violet eyes narrowed dangerously, in a quieter voice, almost through gritted teeth he said, "You failed to mention you was a prince kitty-cat." Violet eyes turned hard.

"P-please don't be angry Duo. I-I was afraid you wouldn't want to be my friend if you knew." The little blonde's shoulders slumped at his companion's frown. His voice was meek as he explained, "Or maybe you would make me go back home. I know I should have been more honest. But I hope now that you know me, it wouldn't matter?" the little blonde ventured.

Prince Heero stared at the braided boy. "Everyone here is royalty of one kind or anther…Does it matter?" he asked raising an eye brow…but his tone was emotionless.

Duo looked the First Prince over from his messy chocolate hair to his scuffed leather boots, not to mention the fine midnight blue velvet in between. "Well," the thief sighed, "If _you_ are a prince, and _they_ are all princes…I think_ I_ can be a prince too, a prince of the streets." He grinned and awkwardly attempted to mimic Helen's curtsey and Quatre's bow at the same time and did neither very well.

"Duo Maxwell, Shinigami Prince." He named himself.

"Shinigami?" another voice from the balcony intruded. This one belonged to a russet haired young man who hastily came to stand beside Heero. A quiet voice in the back of Quatre's mind insisted this noble was…or perhaps had been…someone important, like Zechs. He knew he _should_ recognize this man but didn't. Truthfully, the desert prince had met so many people during the course of his diplomatic training there was no way he could remember them all. Still the feeling of vague familiarity persisted.

"That's what they call me." Duo grinned.

"As in, the thief-lord Shinigami?" The eldest of the group clarified as the final member of the party joined them from the balcony. The russet haired young man continued, "You are quite the legend. The city guards in particular have been eager to … make your acquaintance."

Duo whipped the silver brush out and brandished it like a talisman. "Zechs Merquise said you'd protect us…He said we could stay!"

"Where is he…Is he all right?!" the tallest noble demanded, bright blue eyes glancing around the room doubtlessly looking for the long-haired blonde.

Duo was looking around too, as if he hadn't noticed the blond man hadn't been with them since they had left the treasury. "H-he is resting?" Quatre volunteered hesitatingly, not knowing what other word he could use to describe what he had witnessed in the treasury. "The vice-foreign minister's daughter accosted us at the gate, and it shook him rather badly--Relina can do that to a fellow. Trowa saved us a second time by delaying her and her companions long enough for us to get inside."

"Hn." Heero replied, eyebrows raised, as if in acceptance of his brother's 'heroic sacrifice'.

"Speaking of inside—" Duo interrupted, "--We promised Sister Helen we'd get you fellows outside to the practice grounds for some lunch…And I never tell a lie, so we should go before the chow gets cold not to mention full of bugs and stuff, foods got to be better without bugs, don'cha think?."

The dark-eyed youth, who had remained silent up to this point, snorted derisively, stepping back onto the balcony, unfolded his…wings…and stepped off the railing to soar gracefully across the courtyard.

"Woah!" Duo exclaimed in awe, and Quatre was a bit stunned himself.

"May I, my Prince?" The ginger haired young man asked hesitatingly.

"You need my permission to use your magic Trace?" Prince Heero asked nonplussed.

The young man dropped his gaze to the ground and fingered his throat uncertainty. "Perhaps." He whispered.

"Go join WuFei, and make a way for us to follow." The First Prince nodded once. Quatre felt the gathering magic again, more subtle this time and unaccompanied by the shadows that were characteristic of the Night Prince's workings. It seemed Trace constructed a stairway of condensed air and easily descended to the ground level, Prince Heero followed at his heals. Duo let out a triumphant shout and practically galloped down behind the terse First Prince. Quatre was wary though, peering at hard cobbles beneath the balcony. Trowa touched the blonde's arm encouragingly, reaching out with his power as he did so; a wisp of shadow twined around Quatre's middle making him feel light on his feet. Buoyed up by the Night Prince's magic he felt safe to descend.

Once the blonde was safely on the ground Trowa took a running leap off the balcony, flipping neatly head over heals to land feet together arms outstretched.

Quatre stifled his surprise with a nervous giggle. "Terrific." He announced, "A perfect 'Ten' for Trowa."

The Night Prince smirked and sketched a bow for the blonde.

The rest of the party had been oblivious to the interplay between the two. Duo was still fascinated by the recent experience with 'walking on air.' "Neat trick, Tracy." Duo was congratulating the ginger-haired young man. "The Zexer mentioned a maje-miester like you might be able to help our kitt-cat." The noble's delicately forked eyebrows nearly disappeared into his fringe at the unorthodox nicknames but he let the urchin continue. "He seems all right now but he isn't really. He got darted by some baddies and Z-man seemed to think you could clean the drug outta his system." He explained.

Quatre and Trowa joined the others just in time to hear Duo's pronouncement. The little blonde winced, "That might not be such a good idea Duo…Remember Z-zero."

Duo rolled his eyes. "Kitt'n, Rusty here is a master-mage. He n' He-chan likely know all 'bout what che'r goin' thru. They can help. I might never a-gone to no mage school or nothin' but I happen to know changelings need to learn how to block out other's emotion and get hold of their own. If these guys can make invisible stairs, walls 'n shields 'n things ought to be a piece of cake…I've never had cake. Do you think it is really as nice as people say?" the loquacious boy began to ramble.

"Is it as good as honey do you think? I've had honey. Bee stings are no fun though. Sweets, without bees…this is just a day full of surprises isn't it. Think I'll be disappointed? What if I don't like it? What if it's too rich? Think it will give me a bellyache? I don't like belly aches…have you ever had one? One time I got a-holda this bushel of apples. My best pal Solo didn't know you weren't supposed to eat the cores…just wolfed'um right down. He got so sick. I held him all night out-a fear they'd sprout and he'd get all leafy, or worse. He could-a just up and died." Duo paused, looking around to see if anyone was actually listening.

The First Prince had been slicing an apple into perfect wedges with his belt-knife. Trowa had been doing the same to a small wheel of cheese. Both Yuy princes had been periodically passing slices back and forth to one another. Heero had been just about to take a bite of apple and cheese when he noticed the strangely violet-eyed boy looking at him; the Prince paused to frown back, and then continued with his snack.

Quatre took advantage of Duo's momentary distraction to respond to at least one of the braided boy's questions. "You shouldn't get a stomach ache if you don't gorge yourself." he explained. "If you don't recognize something just try a bit at first. You can always have more if you like it." The blonde touched Duo's shoulder encouragingly and the contact jumpstarted his diminished empathy enough that he could sense the urchin's longing as they approached the table spread with all manner of good things…cake included.

And, even without physical contact, another sense of hunger intruded on his mind…this one strangely alien. Quatre glanced around to see the dark eyed boy, WuFei, Prince Heero had called him, was busy stuffing meat rolls into the gaping mouth of a persistent winged lizard. "A fire drake!" the Desert Prince gasped in awe. Duo looked at the creature nervously, he'd likely only heard about dragon-kin in stories.

The formerly winged boy glanced at them over his shoulder. "You know why your friend got sick, don't you?" The dark eyed foreigner asked.

Duo blinked at him, wordlessly urging him to continue and the stranger obliged.

"It was the seeds. Apple seeds have cyanide in them. When refined it is a potent poison." The young man explained, "A few seeds won't hurt you but too many can make a person quite ill. It is even worse for animals who don't know enough to stop eating them when they are hungry."

Duo bit his lip nervously, "You mean animals like dogs and wolves and things, right, not ones like…"

"Her name is Nataku." The young man said barely pausing in his task. "I am Chang WuFei and you are correct there isn't much a firedrake can't stomach. It seems all she does is eat and sleep--lazy lizard." He chided quietly but there was no concealing the affection in his voice. "She has already stolen my breakfast this morning so she may leave enough food for the rest of you."

The winged lizard let out an indignant snort. A small jet of flame caused the youth to quickly pull his hand away. Then Nataku lifted her chin and turned her head away as if her pride had been offended. "She's always been techy--" WuFei admitted. His dark eyes glazed a bit, and he looked momentarily distracted. "--I _am not_ moody and self-important!" he said then blushed realizing; not only had he spoken aloud, he had done so rather loudly. Embarrassed, he busied himself with selecting a pastry topped with jam then lapsed into sullen silence while he ate it.

Duo surveyed the table expectantly. "What do you think I'd like?" he asked quietly.

"Why not start with a cucumber sandwich, I like them." Quatre suggested taking one for himself and handing another to the braided urchin.


	17. To Take Action

Part Seventeen—Take Action

Trace studied the strangers. If the jewel was honest with himself he would admit to being a bit uncomfortable around new people. As much as he hated spending time in the treasury a part of him desperately wanted to go there now and check on his counterpart. It was strange that he be here while Zechs was dormant. In fact it felt a bit strange being here at all. The king's Jewels were more accustomed to being 'shown off' rather than 'introduced.' True, Heero hadn't remembered to introduce them to the Wei Prince and his companion…but that wasn't exactly a surprise. WuFei had introduced himself. It was only polite that he do the same.

"I am Merquise Trace." He offered quietly. "What was it your friend mentioned about a dart?"

"I-I'm alright…Actually I'm rather used to it," the blonde admitted eyes lowered as he nibbled his sandwich.

"Really?" the Jewel frowned.

"I've got a problem. My father has been trying to get an audience with the king for months. In the meantime, I have to take medicine twice every night. It makes me sleep and I'm usually a bit muzzy when I'm awake … but it is better than the alternative.''

"Awe cat, I told you it's not so bad; besides, your ability came in handy when those thugs tried to take you down. It served them right too. You knew not to attack T and Me. And after you realized the fight was over, you practically let T-man there pet you 'till you calmed. I'd say you are cute as a button…not that you aren't normally…So your folk fear you, so what. Compared to some shifters you're almost cuddly."

Trace could see the blonde had a difficult time speaking about his 'problem' and tried to draw on the clues the braided boy gave as to why… He is feared not to mention drugged by his own people yet the urchin judges him cute and cuddly, a Cat with the ability to take down thugs. "Lycanthropy?" he wondered and the blonde boy nodded sadly.

"I'm empathic and that makes the change impossible to control. It is a self defense from other people's emotions. I've done a lot of damage as a Nimr. My only two choices are isolation or the drug." He sighed.

"Isolation is problematic for a prince." Heero mumbled.

"Getting drugged is no picnic either." Duo frowned back at him.

"We can help if you will let us." Trace confirmed.

0-0-0-0-0

'WE' Heero sighed at Trace's use of the word. That meant HE had to assist the Jewel in HELPING. Not that he particularly wanted the little blond to suffer. But then he didn't really _care_ one way or another. His brother clearly _felt _otherwise. The First Prince made eye-contact with Trowa, who quirked an eyebrow at him questioningly. Heero grimaced back at him trying to puzzle out the situation. The second prince _could_ have felt threatened because Heero brought WuFei into their circle without his usual input. But he doubted it. His brother had come to terms with the fact that he had made a friend on his own, then brought him two more. Trowa wasn't one to be jealous or petty. Heero had seen enough examples of both in court to know his brother was nothing of the sort.

These strangers needed help just as the dragon lord had. There was nothing more to it than that. Of course WuFei's problem had been relatively easy to solve. Treize had done all the real work. Not that he minded work…but an Empath?! That was the real trouble. By virtue of the curse, the blonde was the antithesis of everything he was or ever could be. And helping the Winner Prince wasn't something his brother was capable of either. Trowa and Zechs specialized on physical manifestations of magic. They could alter an objects mass, location, dimension, temperature or appearance. They could envision distant places with clarity and accuracy and see the nature of magic itself. They could manipulate the environment but they could not use their magic to alter essence as he and Trace did.

Earth, Air, Fire, Water, Metal and Energy were his to command. Heero had mastered each under the Jewel's patient guidance…but the last two elements, Life and Void always confounded him. Unlike Trace, Heero had no _feel_ for it…or for anything thanks to his curse. Unfortunately, those two powers would be the very ones necessary to help the Winner prince. 'What was the Jewel thinking?' Heero wondered knowing he, simply, was not equipped to deal with an Empath mind-to-mind. They would be like oil and water there would be no mixing. How could they when he had no frame of reference to determine what _normal_ was?

Quatre watched with interest as the ginger-haired Jewel drew the dagger from his belt and dropped to one knee on the hard packed soil. He hastily drew a circle with the tip pf his blade. "Think of this as representing your mind." Trace explained. "It is like a lake, deep and wide. There are strong ripples and currents caused by the interplay of intellect, emotion, instinct, and essence. Without discipline consciousness is like a mote tossed about by every wind and wave." He explained.

Then he took the blade again and bisected the circle into 4 quadrants. "The mind can be ordered by allocating each of the four forces to its own territory. Centering yourself here—" he touched the cross on the center "you can find peace from the storms when you need it."

Heero frowned. He knew all too well that 'still center' was his prison as much as the castle was. Were he to leave it for even an instant he would call down the curse and woe to those caught in the wave of mindless destruction that would follow. He had access to the intellect aspect of himself and the essence was the place from which his magic flowed…while instinct and emotion… were solely his brother's domain. The curse barred each of them from experiencing the full spectrum of life. What must it be like to be whole? He wondered. Would either of them even be able to function were they suddenly free of the curse? Heero frowned. Just thinking of such things made his head ache.

"I am telepathic to a degree." the Jewel explained. "Not so much that I can break the fortress of Trowa's mind…but I should be able to access yours easily enough. Empaths, especially unshielded ones, are naturally vulnerable to such things. It will be the easiest way to show you how to protect yourself and how to control the change. Once that is done, I can use my magic to neutralize the drug and you should have no need for it. Even so, neither of us can afford you getting tangled in my emotions till I have finished. That means I need you to ignore me while I am touching you and focus your empathy on Heero. He will anchor you in the center and keep you safe from the tide of my mind."

Everyone had pretty much finished eating now. "Let's get this over with." Heero announced coldly.

The blonde sent a look at the braided thief who moved over and squeezed his hand. "Do these folk feel trustworthy?" the boy asked, luminous violet eyes studying the terse First Prince.

Quatre nodded solemnly but said nothing. The other boy, Duo, grinned back at him "Then It'll be all right. I'll be here kitty-kat and anything's got to be better than what you're used to. You gotta be free to really live, don't just smile to hide the fangs. Got it?"

"Got it." the smaller boy echoed.

Trace stood and his long strides took him over to the trestle table and he sat on it. Then he motioned for the little blond to sit on the bench between his booted feet. Heero sighed taking his place at the last tier of the magic pyramid, sitting cross-legged on the ground in front of the blonde. He felt the light touch on his shoulders and closed his eyes. It was a conscious effort to allow the foreign presence to settle so close to his own. The curse urged him to shove the tiny flutter of emotion as far from himself as he was able. Trowa would be surprised to see him grimace. Heero clenched his fists and set his teeth on edge. Mentally he tried to convince himself this small, frail looking, boy was not a threat.

o-o-o-o-o-o

"Has he done anything like this before?" Duo whispered clearly not wanting to disturb the proceedings.

"I'm new here." The dark eyed boy shrugged idly scratching the scaled head of his sleeping dragonet.

Trowa frowned he couldn't explain that both Trace and his brother had tried to use their skills to unlock the thoughts closeted in his mind to no avail. The curse kept them out as surely as it locked him in. In the end they got nothing but a taste of his pain. It wasn't something any of them had wanted to duplicate. But as Trace has said, this should be much easier.

Not to mention the Jewel was without the collar that restricted his magic. Trowa was still at a loss as to the ramifications of _that_ particular development. And he suspected it may have slipped the others' minds as well. If one were to follow the analogy Trace set up, the 'lake' of his ability might suddenly be discovered to contain an artesian well with, significantly more depth to pull from than he was accustomed to.

Of course there was also the question of whether Quatre understood the analogy at all, being desert bred it was unlikely he saw all that many large bodies of water, let alone the vastness of the wine dark sea. Trowa supposed it didn't really matter; His magic was like Zechs…there wasn't much he could do if things started going wrong anyway.

Duo had unbound his chestnut mane from its characteristic braid and was attempting to tame it by increments with the silver brush Zechs had given him. He didn't seem particularly worried for his friend.

"Why do you keep your hair so long?" WuFei asked the urchin. "Doesn't it get in the way?"

"Sometimes," Duo admitted, "but I don't mind. It has seminal value."

"Sentimental." WuFei corrected.

"Yeah, that too," the urchin nodded, "It is a way to remember what I've lost; companions that died from sickness or abuse, hunger and cold, good masters and bad. This length of hair is the only thing that has been with me through it all…I didn't have to steal it. I never begged for it. It isn't a hand out or a gesture of pity, it is just mine…and I happen to like it."

"The color is nice." WuFei admitted quietly, then as if to cover an uncharacteristic lapse, he added, "It could likely use a good washing though--with a good deal of soap no doubt."

"I know what soap is." The urchin said crossing his arms defensively. Trowa couldn't help notice the boy hadn't admitted to _using_ soap, merely knowing what it was. Duo claimed not to lie, and from what the prince had seen he took that vow very seriously.

"Ouch!" WuFei exclaimed suddenly falling backwards off the bench. His fire-drake opened one eye to regard his partner curiously then drifted back to sleep on the corner of the table.

"Something stuck me." the dark eyed dragon lord announced glaring under the table. "It's a plant, Look." He pointed. Sure enough a tendril of green was snaking its way up the table leg at an alarming rate. There were tiny thorns on the stem and leaves uncurled and stretched out to the sunlight even as the boys watched. Within moments a luscious red rose blossomed filling the air with scent.

Trowa's emerald gaze cast about the courtyard and noticed other places where roses had suddenly burst into glorious being where hard packed dirt and cold stone had always been. The Night Prince reasoned that, if this was the worst side effect of letting an unbound Jewel work deep magic than perhaps, they ought to think about freeing Zechs as well.

The king wouldn't like it, of course. They were HIS after all, but wasn't it about time he and Heero began making more important decisions about the governing of the castle…let alone the country. Cursed or not, they were his heirs.

Soon after the roses bloomed Quatre let out a spontaneous squeal of delight. His shape shifted and the Nimir Zero, leapt over Heero's head dashing across the courtyard like a tawny bolt of lightning. The big cat's curiosity took him to the shadow beneath the broken study window where a veritable rose arbor had sprung to life. Trowa followed him, drawn as a loadstone he watched as the cat pawed one of the fist sized blossoms then deftly shift to human form. Still kneeling on the ground Quatre cupped the flower gently in his palm and inhaled the scent. "Beautiful," he sighed then looked up into the Night Prince's dark green eyes and smiled, tears of joy shining on his cheeks. Trowa longed to brush them away but stayed his hand glancing instead back to the others.

Trace sighed, slowly coming out of his trance. "The Nimir-child is an amazing creature, don't you think so my Prince? Such purity and innocence twinned with wisdom and courage. It was an honor to be able to help him." the Jewel bowed his head, almost reverently.

"It was the right thing to do." WuFei acknowledged.

"Hn," The First Prince responded stoically but a slight smile ghosted about the corner of his mouth. He wasn't quite sure what happened while he'd been linked with the blonde's mind but leaving it to return to his own made him feel…diminished, as if he'd lost _something._ The First Prince absently scraped his fingernails across his forearms as if he suddenly felt uncomfortable in his own skin.

In need of a distraction, his cobalt gaze drifted to the braided boy who was busy picking the candied walnuts off a cinnamon bun, eating them one by one. Then he proceeded to un-wrap the bun eating the outside layer first and nibbling his way to the center by inches. It was a methodical way to eat but the light in those strange eyes reflected emotions Heero couldn't even imagine. He sighed.


	18. Retribution

Part Eighteen--Retribution

"What have you done to my Jewel Heero?" The old king strode purposefully into the practice grounds his voice was enough to make even the most stalwart warrior's blood turn to ice in their veins.

The First Prince stiffened feeling the old man's gaze fall heavily upon him but answered unhesitatingly. "The collar has become unnecessary, I removed it."

Jae's bloodshot eyes narrowed dangerously. "I did not give you permission to make that type of decision."

"Extreme redundancy is inefficient, and has become problematic in the course of our training. It was my duty to rectify the situation." Heero responded mechanically. Then his cobalt eyes widened a fraction as he noticed the tall figure to the king's left.

Zechs stood in rigid attention, hands behind his back. The top half of his face was covered by a featureless silver mask--the lower half was completely devoid of expression.

Heero was not the only one to take note of the second Jewel's presence. Trace gasped rising to his feet. "That mask was _mine_," Trace said in the barest of whispers, "It was spell-crafted for me."

The king had exceptional hearing for a man of his advanced years and even if he had missed the russet hared young man's movement the whisper drew his attention immediately. Jae smirked, "You recall the Epyon,** Treize**?" The slight variant of pronunciation brought the Jewel invariably to his knees even without the power of the collar to control him. The soul-shapers power was rooted in the essence of that which he controlled. Possessing the true name of a thing gave one power over it which was why Jae guarded his creature's names so jealously. The effect was always everything he hoped it would be.

The Jewel's normally assertive voice was a tremulous whisper in the face of his aged master. "I'll take the collar back. I'll even bear the mask." The Jewel conceded, "Just don't use _him_ like that."

For all appearances the young man seemed submissive but the old king knew the fire still raged. The jewel's last statement was proof of that. All one needed to do was fan the flames to a conflagration. "You remember what you are offering my pet?" the sorcerer intoned. "What happened the last time you did battle under my direct control? Tell me, how many souls were vanquished?"

"Ninety-nine thousand, two-hundred and twenty-two," It sounded as if the number was torn agonizingly from the young man's throat.

"That's right. I'm sure we can add another hundred, perhaps two, to the score…before the day is out. Of course, you know I would have you start with him." the sorcerer nodded toward Zechs standing impassive at his side. "It's not like it would be the first time you killed him. How about it _Treize_, it's been a while hasn't it." The old king sent a tendril of power out to taunt his first master-work, a wordless reminder of his place.

"No." the russet-haired young man shook his head his face pale as death, "Please, no more." Where was the anger…the dread he had meticulously cultivated over the years? The king frowned. A soul shaper fed off such things. It was unlike the Jewel to deny him.

"What are you talking about?" the First Prince demanded tonelessly.

"That's right!" the king's haggard face brightened as he recalled he had other souls to taunt, "I had not chosen you, as my princes, yet." Jae turned his attention to Heero, though he did not forget his Jewel's uncharacteristic malaise. Perhaps all he needed was to twist the knife a bit. "You were not there when I carved this empire out of a paltry handful of discordant kingdom. "_Treize_ was my general then. Not by choice granted, but then Epyon is quite helpful in schooling a reluctant mind to cooperate. Isn't it my pet?" Jae's three fingered hand brushed briefly across the back of the silver mask. Zechs shivered visibly in response. Trace's hands clenched into fists but he refused to meet his master's predatory gaze.

Quatre could feel the inner conflict practically radiating off the blonde Jewel as he fought, and failed against the power that bound him. If the desert prince had not been in cat form already the waves of emotion would have made it very difficult to keep Zero at bay. Even with the newfound control Heero and Trace had given him a rumbled growl formed in his throat. Trowa's arms laced around his shoulders and arching neck; the Night Prince radiated calm. The Nimir leaned into his chest taking comfort from the wordless reassurance. It was incredibly liberating for Quatre to know he was accepted, animal or not. If the situation were not so dire, he may have been tempted to purr, but as it was, the fur of his tail bristled. It was impossible for him not to sense the change in the air.

Elemental mages such as Heero or Trace could conjure water by the bucketful but those with high levels of kinetic power such as Zechs could affect change on a larger scale simply by moving what they want to the place they want it. Seemingly, Epyon amplified that power even more. Under the king's magical compulsion the large blonde was in the midst of a great working. The sky grew darker as thunderheads moved in steadily devouring the turquoise sky. WuFei felt the unnatural change in the air as well and silently summoned Nataku to join with him as surreptitiously as possible.

The old king was looking particularly smug with himself. He just had to share the secret with the others, he couldn't help himself. "The Storm-kings of Sanq had been sleeping peacefully for generations." Jae explained, "But in taking the Romfell heir as my weapon I unwittingly roused the Lightning Prince to fury." The sorcerer king's three fingered grip toyed with a long lock of white gold hair. "**Milliardo** here, turned his army against us with a vengeance." The entranced Jewel was hovering a few feet above the ground now; arms crossed across his breast his hair whipping wildly in the wind, at the sound of the name his head dropped a fraction and his body sank a bit lower to the ground, a visible sign of the stress Quatre sensed.

The king frowned reasserting his control and the Second Jewel was impassive once more. The act served to unsettle Trace all the more. WuFei was not blind to the subtle interplay between Master and Jewel. He stepped closer to the kneeling young man. He made no move to touch Trace but stood close, almost protectively, behind him.

Jae smirked, "_Treize_ tried to resist my control then, as _Milliardo_ does now. It was futile of course. Treize could tell you I'm sure, had I not taken care to obliterate that particular memory. Even so, I am sure you will believe me when I say he begged me to let him face the enemy commander in battle one-on-one. Had to see him again didn't you Treize…even if it was only to meet blade-to-blade. Regardless of Epyon's influence you were tired of the bloodshed. I knew I would need a better way to control you. And I found it, didn't I." The old man scoffed.

The storm summoned by the Lightning Prince's call drew ever nearer and it seemed there were forms like the unsettled souls of horses and warriors gathering among the clouds. 99,222 of them. Trace recognized the gathering wraiths as the legacy of Epyon. The king had erased much of what had come before from the precincts of Trace's mind, but he had never been permitted to forget that his hands were stained with blood.

Now, the king's words unwittingly brought those memories to life once more. The onetime general had no doubt his master was about to destroy him…and he couldn't help but reflect how fitting it was the spirit's fury would be loosed on the one who had unwittingly cut their lives short. But Zechs should not have to bear the burden that would come with further blood shed. Trace shivered in the unnatural cold.

"My Jeweled pair, I found you on the battlefield among the slain. Your blade lodged in his heart and his in yours—But I bound your spirits as they attempted to flee together locked in deaths embrace. I made you what you are, recalling your souls from the ether and binding in crystal. I returned you to the world of the living by my whim. Even now, I can shatter the imperfect gems lodged in your breasts with a word, or send you to sleep forever. Is that what I should do?" the king asked with a haughty air. "I suspect you would prefer I make it quick."

Lightning flashed down from the angry clouds. Trace flinched reflexively, throwing up his forearms in an attempt to shield his chest. The magic that sustained him made him nearly immortal, but as the king pointed out, a broken heart would surely end him. The bolt never connected though. Dragon hide is impervious to such attacks. In the blink of an eye WuFei had dropped to one knee, a seemingly delicate wing shielded the russet haired Jewel from the king's ire.

Heero did not flinch when the reflected bolt scored the ground barely an arms length away from his booted foot. He regarded the old man coldly, clearing his throat drawing the king's attention. "You are misinformed." He could have said more. He could have told Jae that permitting flaws in the Jewel's crystal hearts had been '_inefficient_.' He could have told the man he and Trowa had used bits of their own life essence to mend those slight imperfections long ago and strengthened them each time the Jewels were set to rest. But he could not countenance what motivated the king to act as he was presently, so he didn't see the need to reveal these things. The First Prince shook his head, "You create a threat where none exists." He said his gaze intense and unblinking.

"Do not presume to lecture me!" Jae shouted. The ghostly soldiers bore down on them, summoned by the king's anger and the thunder of their hoof beats resounded in the heavy clouds. "I made you as well--and your so called brother. You are vessels of _my_ power! You were nothing but a stray, picked up by the assassin Lowe. You may have been well on your way to becoming a weapon when Odin met his untimely end. But you would still be slaving off his debts if not for me. I took you from that life, I chose you as my first heir! Ungrateful wretch! Don't you understand I have been systematically cutting away your weaknesses? Perfecting you, as my Jewels could never be!"

The First Prince's cobalt eyes narrowed. These things were news to him though it was true he had never had any familial feelings toward the old king he had assumed that was just another vestige of the curse.

"You do not understand the irony." The king continued, "I have trained the assassin in politics and the performer to delivers death from the shadows at my command." Having made the pronouncement Jae turned his attention to Trowa who was crouching semi-concealed beneath the balcony, Zero pulled tight to his chest.

Whether Trowa was trying to shield the large Nimir with his arms or hide behind him it was hard to say, but the dagger in his subtle grip was a clear indication he did not like this turn of events at all.

The king was going to great lengths to goad his creatures. His face was flushed and his three fingered hand tugged absently at his sparse gray beard. "**Triton Barton**, circus brat…have you decided to rebel as well? Even after all I've done, can it be the Night Prince still craves the spotlight? I expected you to be more than the pathetic clown who chose to sleep with toothless lions. Perhaps I judged you wrongly."

The Night Prince shivered at the use of the name, hiding his face in the velvety pelt. Zero was far from toothless. Blue-fire danced in his eyes, promising violence. Quatre bared his fangs and growled ominously, but the great cat did not strain against the arms that held him.

"You confound me King Jae." Heero frowned noting how the king's attention had shifted away from him yet again. "You threaten those close to me for what reason, because you hope to elicit a reaction? Have you forgotten I have no emotions? This behavior is irrational and ill conceived." The prince shook his head.

"You do have emotions** Hiiro Solon,** You are actually a very kind hearted creature it is one of several failings I have sought to correct. Remember Wing…and that nameless griffin the Night Prince so prized. What happened to your pets, boy?" the king demanded.

Heero frowned slightly, both at the name and the accusation in the man's voice. "We released them." Heero replied with an off handed shrug.

"It was a decision you would not have made but for the training I have given you." Jae continued with his diatribe. "When I chose you, you were nothing but a stray—an animal driven by instinct and emotion. The curse was for your benefit. It forces your eyes to look beyond that. If it were not so you would have kept those animals because they gave you some measure of satisfaction. But a king must possess intelligence and reason making decisions with forethought! A king is what I have sought to make you. And so, you let them go. You would have killed them had I commanded it. Don't you know you have _nothing_ I do not allow?!"

"You are wrong." A voice called out from behind him.

"What's that?!" The soul-shaper exclaimed half turning in surprise to see a braided urchin with a wild grin.

"He has friends!" Duo exclaimed holding his hands above his head. In a flash of magic the featureless mask, Epyon, appeared in his grasp. Then the braided boy closed his violet eyes, humming as he dropped to his knee, smashing the helm against the cobbles. It shattered in a spectacular shower of sparks.

Zechs brought a hand to his brow shaking off the mind numbing effects of Epyon. The mask had temporally neutralized the draining effect of his collar while placing him completely under the king's control. Jae summoned the storm through him but now that the helm was destroyed the effects of the collar came into play once more. When he stretched out with his magic the collar devoured it as quick as it came. There was no way he could control the approaching storm. But there was one facet of his magic considered too minimal to fall under the collar's censure.

Realization came swiftly. Ice-blue eyes shifted to observe the mystical plane confirming Zechs' suspicions. Jae had been seeking to augment his own energy. Since Heero stood in defiance some small measure of his magic bled into the sky feeding the unnatural storm from which the old king drew his power. But Trace, Trowa and the others knelt in one form or another. Their magic was no longer free to feed the storm instead it was grounded to the earth, or rather the cobbles of the courtyard.

The First Prince was tied to the castle by the curse's magic and so the others' power was being funneled to him through that connection. From a magical standpoint Heero shone incandescent with the influx of converging magics even as the king's aura dwindled. With the loss of the Epyon, Zechs had never seen the old man so…unstable, and still the storm gathered, drawing ever closer. Thunder rumbled in the distance and it felt as if the earth was waiting, holding its breath in expectation of…something.

In a heartbeat Zechs pushed his magical reserves to the limit to catch hold of a passing breeze. He swooped down arms outstretched in flight nearly skimming the hard packed soil and fairly tackled Heero to the ground. Leaving the king the only one standing in the wide open space; True to nature, the lightning was drawn to him and whether a result of the conflicting magical energies or the chemicals and spell ingredients Jae had secreted about his person the resulting explosion stunned everyone for more than a few seconds. And when they blinked the stars from their eyes, there was nothing remaining of the man but a smudge on the stone, a pile of ash quickly snatched away by the wind and the shimmering shards of Epyon.


	19. Epilogue

Part Nineteen – Epilogue

"W-what happened?" the green-eyed prince blinked. "I-I feel so strange."

"The curse is broken." Quatre whispered in awe, reverting to human form to embrace the Second Prince.

"The curse is broken?" WuFei asked surprise in his voice as he helped the russet haired Jewel to his feet.

"The curse is broken!" Duo exclaimed throwing up his arms and dancing about ecstatically. One wondered if the urchin really understood the ramifications of what had just happened or if he was just taking advantage of the situation to let loose and prance about with reckless abandon.

"My liege." Treize turned to Heero, placed his fist over his crystal heart, and bowed.

Milliardo was feeling a bit faint from exerting himself still he helped Heero to his feet, and steadied him with an outstretched arm. "Didn't mean to be quite so rough," the tall blonde mumbled brushing the dust off Heero's midnight blue doublet.

The Jewel didn't even notice when, instead of wincing as he normally did at physical contact, Heero returned the touch—effortlessly melting off the seamless metal collar around his neck.

Zechs' eyes went wide in surprise at the warm inrush of power, his fatigue vanished quickly away and the subtle currents of the world were open to him once more. The blonde jewel lacked the words to express his gratitude for the gesture. So he didn't try, keeping his mouth firmly shut he placed his fist to his heart mirroring Treize's salute.

Duo danced around Heero as if he were a tussle haired maypole expecting the other boy to growl and snap. Heero obliged him…but something in those cobalt blue eyes seemed to indicate it was little more than force of habit. With a smirk the urchin leaned close to the other boy's ear and whispered, "You are free." Then Duo continued on with his spirited frolicking. Privately he wondered how long it would take Heero to discover the surprise he'd slipped into the inner pocket of the prince's doublet. A dirt smudged packet of papers, a testament to the history they once shared.

-0-0-0-0-

The new King of Yuy crossed his arms as he regarded his companions, those that would help him rule. His cobalt eyes drifted to the place where the old king had last stood. Jae's words came back to him as if from a dream, "_Nothing but nature and the fullness of time can release you from my power…__When the time comes you will draw others to your cause.__"_ Surely the old man couldn't have foreseen such a '_shocking'_ end.

Amusement tugged at the corner of Heero's thin lips. Then he felt a slight rumbled chuckle form deep in his throat. It grew steadily; bubbling up until He was laughing so hard tears formed in his cobalt eyes. Then he threw back his head and howled, literally howled; letting go completely for the first time, in a very long time. And the magical tethers instituted by the curse weren't there to prevent it.

The First Prince's curse had been two fold. The first and most obvious facet was his inability to experience emotion. The second and seemingly lesser aspect prevented him from leaving the palace grounds. But the magic involved had been more subtle than he had ever realized.

Like Quatre, Heero was an empathic shifter. The curse closed him to his own emotion but his empathy could only be diverted by tying him to the stones of the palace. So long as he had been within the palace he was completely shielded from the emotions of others. However, that shield grew thin around the edges. When he neared the walls or gates stray impulses from outside could intrude on his consciousness which invariably triggered the curse.

His mind would instinctively begin the change to protect itself just as Quatre's did. But the curse interfered preventing his body from completing the transformation. Trowa has seen the animal in him but there had been no reason in those wild eyes. The pain had been too overwhelming. But all that was past now.

Free of the curse, Heero's innate ability woke within him. He seemed to shimmer with an inner light and his form altered, smoothly merging with the fullness of his magic. For the first time in as long as he could remember the shift was effortless. He became a chocolate colored wolf with keen Prussian-blue eyes.

It was a form Duo knew well. "Hee-Puppy!" the urchin shouted with undisguised glee, wrapping his arms around the large wolf. I KNEW my pal Solo wasn't really lost. But you aren't a lone-wolf no more… you've grown-up and got yourself a whole pack of princes, and a kingdom to boot. And of course, you got me…but that's no surprise right? Just try not to chase our kitty-Katre up any trees. Kay?" In a stage whisper he added "O'course, Tro-ie looks like he'd be useful in getting 'im down." And it was true.

Presently Zero was stalking the green-eyed prince, tail twitching with undisguised delight as Trowa performed cartwheels and back-flips on the lawn only occasionally augmenting his handsprings with magic. Seeing his brother as a wolf distracted him just long enough for the exuberant blonde fur-ball to tackle him to the ground. "_AIEEE_!!" The formerly silent prince yelped then grinned, "I'll get you!" he promised. And when, long thin fingers sought purchase in that incredibly soft fur, what began as a wrestling match turned into a tickle fight. The wriggling Nimir melted into a blushing Quatre nearly overcome by giggles.

The wolf grinned, as the cursed prince never had, and taking Duo's braid between his teeth he gave it a playful tug. Then he shifted back to human form, deep blue eyes sparkling. Heero's response was a typical, "Hn," but he didn't release the chestnut plait; instead, he wound it around his fist, leading Duo along as he went to investigate what the other two boys were up to. In no time the four youths; wild-cat, wolf, prince and peasant were playfully chasing one another in wild circles about the courtyard.

Treize and Zechs watched the two pairs frolic with bright-eyed amusement. WuFei snorted crossing his arms in smug defiance. "Would you look at them…practically dancing. Chang WuFei does _not_ dance! It is an all together undignified display, well beneath Nataku and myself." Though the dragon snorted incredulously from where her head rested on his shoulder leaving the Jewels to suspect she at least did not agree with his assessment.

Zechs smirked, recognizing the tinge of jealousy in the other boy's voice, identified with it in fact. Even while under Epyon's control he had been impressed with the way the dark eyed Dragon Lord stepped in to protect Trace--That act alone earned his high regard. "Come fly with me then." the blonde offered holding out a hand.

The Dragon Prince blinked at him curiously. Clearly the Storm-lord COULD fly, rather elegantly too--if his earlier display was any judge. Unaccountably his breath caught painfully in his throat and obsidian eyes blinked back tears. Since the loss of his clan WuFei and Nataku tread the sky alone. Even birds fled before them. After learning his people's fate He tried to accept that it would always be so. Now, he hardly dared hope.

"Yes, come fly with _us_" Treize amended. "It has been a while, but now that I am growing accustomed to having full control of my magic, I have…options." The First Jewel focused his mind and delved deep into the wellspring of his power and then in joyous release: air, water, earth, fire and the stuff of life combined to give him wings--like those of a hawk or other birds of prey. He spread them expectantly also holding out a hand to the young dragon lord.

In a heartbeat the three took to the air wheeling and diving over the sleepy countryside -- in a dignified manner as befitted the heir of Chang. Soon though, the three were playfully chasing one another spiraling, making loops, corkscrews, and generally reveling in the freedom of the wind. It was a glorious feeling to be free and each cherished it for their own reasons.

Notably, it had been a long time since a dragon lord had been seen in the skies over the Yuy Empire, and never in company of a storm lord and elemental adept. Many of the commoners stopped what they were doing to bear witness to the unprecedented sight. A gentle summer rain came trailing in their wake…and when the sun shone bright once more roses bloomed across the countryside. All in all, it was a fine way to herald the dawn of a new age.

0-0-0-0-0-0

Much changed with the passing of Jae Wyrdan, and nothing more so than the condition of his heirs and those closest to them. Cursed no more, life itself had taken on new meaning. The old king's chosen were no longer fragments of what had been…but neither could they go back to the lives lost when the soul-shaper had stolen them away. Now was the time to move forward; taking destiny in their own hands, deciding who they truly were, and what they were meant to be in this new world.

Being so long confined to the castle Heero Solon, King of Yuy, was an active king, constantly moving about the many realms of his Empire. His brother Trowa Barton, Shadow Master, ruled at his side. They were aided in all things by the Council of Princes.

The western part of the empire was represented by Marquise Milliardo Zechs, the Storm Prince of Sancier. The Northern districts looked to Trace Rozen Kushrenada, Jewel Prince of RomFell. WuFei Chang: Dragon Prince Nataku administered justice in the Eastern realms and Quatre Nimir Winner: Desert Prince of Wei counseled the tribes to the South. In the Central region, including the former capital one Duo Shinigami the Peoples Prince presided, with a fair amount of flair audacity not to mention the occasional masterly executed prank…much to the dismay of the various members of the city guard.

The young nobles spent as much in each others districts as they did their own and each benefited from the strengths and skills of the others. Their combined efforts helped knit the diverse empire together. Wisdom, generosity, strength, compassion, humor and justice made the Empire of Yuy a shining example throughout the realms. The noble assembly ruled in freedom and relative peace for many, many, years to come…though magic might have had something to do with it as well.

~Fin~

------------------------------------

Author's note:

Well that is all for this tale. I had a great time writing this one and I hope you enjoyed it too. As I see it there are still many avenues left to explore in this particular AU. Let me know you are interested in reading more and I will endeavor to do so. For the moment though I'm working on the sequel to "All Roads Lead to Rome" and a few other projects so it may take a while.

Many thanks to those of you who took the time to review -- your support has been much appreciated! Sharing thoughts, comments and critique is a valuable tool and I cherish each and every one I receive. More please!

A big thank you also goes to Blindy who beta'd the first half of this story and my Ami-friend who finished up the rest. Huzzah!


End file.
